


A Soulmate For Valentine's Day 2016

by ozhawk



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (2016), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Multi, Tumblr Prompt, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 74
Words: 33,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5974869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I made <a href="http://ozhawkauthor.tumblr.com/post/139041385492/valentines-prompts">this list of Tumblr prompts</a>.</p><p>And as usual, the requests rained in :)</p><p>REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SEND ME ANY MORE PLEASE</p><p>I will be writing them STRICTLY in order received, and I may combine two or more requests if I feel they fit together well. You can send a comment asking where your ask is in the queue if you like, but it'll probably take me at least a week or two to clear the queue, so please be patient if you don't see yours for a while!</p><p>They won't all be soulmate AU's, and the ratings will vary but at the moment I'm not planning for any of these to get really smutty. Check the beginning of each chapter for notes on which (if any) previous fics the drabbles link back to, and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve/Daisy and Jane/Fitz/Darcy, 12, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Double Date**
> 
> _HEH. OK. Well, in that case, this is set in the_ [ _Darcy/Fitz/Jane ‘verse_ ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/7175705) _. Steve and Daisy don’t have marks._

“I’m really not sure I want to meet anyone who Jane and Darcy think would be the perfect guy for me,” Daisy mumbled to Fitz as they walked into the restaurant. “I mean - don’t take this the wrong way, Fitz, but they think _you’re_ the perfect man and…”

“I’m not your type? I’m so hurt,” Fitz clutched at his chest, grinning. Daisy elbowed him lightly in the ribs, grinning back.

“Well yeah, kind of.”

“Don’t worry. I trust them,” Fitz said airily.

“I have this feeling of impending doom,” Daisy mumbled darkly as they spotted Jane and Darcy, sitting in a booth together. They both saw Fitz at the same moment and jumped up, hurrying over to grab him in a tight embrace, both kissing him, touching his face with their hands.

Daisy glanced around a little sheepishly, wondering where her supposed date was.

“He just went to the bathroom,” Darcy said, spotting her nervous expression and letting Fitz up for air - or actually, no, she was just giving Jane a turn to snog him breathless, Daisy realised. Soon they had Fitz tucked in between them in the booth, both of them snuggling close to him. Daisy felt very much like a third - (fourth?) - wheel, as she slipped in opposite them. But there was a filled water glass on her side of the table, a paper napkin that looked as though someone had been awkwardly pleating it, so she guessed her date really did exist.

 _Reduced to double dating on Valentine’s Day_ , she thought glumly, keeping her eyes averted from the lovey-dovey trio across the table. _What even is my life?_

A shadow fell over her then, and she glanced up. And up, her jaw dropping ungraciously.

“Hi, I’m Steve. You must be Daisy.”

Darcy giggled at the flabbergasted expression on Daisy’s face. “Come on. I’ve seen that sign on your desk often enough. Did I ever tell you that Steve has a known weakness for small feisty brunettes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(The sign Darcy refers to is a Trust Cap sign seen on Skye/Daisy’s desk in early S2)_


	2. Jemma/Natasha, 16, for loopereer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Cuddling gets handsy**
> 
> _Not part of the Soulmates AU._

 

Natasha had struck Jemma as utterly catlike from the moment they first met. No ordinary cat, though; the Russian was, to Jemma’s mind, a Siamese. Lithe, elegant, entirely, arrogantly confident in her own beauty.

She came over to the couch where Jemma was sitting alone now, draped herself with utter grace along the length of the cushions, resting her head on Jemma’s lap.

“Anything on TV?”

“Dr Who is starting in a minute, I was planning to watch it,” Jemma admitted, a hint of apology in her voice. The base was near-deserted, everyone out on dates for Valentine’s. She hadn’t even known anyone else would be around.

“I love that, it’s my favourite!” Natasha squeaked with unexpected excitement. “Who’s your favourite Doctor?”

“Ten,” Jemma’s tone dared Natasha to disagree. But the redhead only hummed with agreement, nodding and giving her a sparkling smile before returning her attention to the television.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Jemma realised she was almost unconsciously running her fingers through Natasha’s hair, smoothing the fiery curls. She froze as she realised what she was doing, but Natasha made a discontented little sound, rubbed her head against Jemma’s hand until she resumed her petting.

_Just like a cat_ , Jemma thought in amusement. She fell into an almost trancelike state, her fingers carding gently through the soft curls under her hands. Smoothing along the silky skin of Natasha’s throat as she arched into Jemma’s touch. She barely noticed when one slim hand slipped up beneath Natasha’s cheek, curving over her thigh. Started drawing small circles on the bared skin as her skirt rode up.

It wasn’t until the program ended that Natasha placed the first soft kiss against Jemma’s thigh. She turned her head and looked up, green eyes gleaming in the dim light, smiling mysteriously. Her slender fingers gliding further up Jemma’s thigh before pausing. Almost as though asking permission.

Jemma had to smile.

_This must be the first time in history that a cat has ever asked permission to do anything._


	3. RumSkye, 20, for dwyn5002

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This is the wrong restaurant I just realised but holy shit this guy/girl is so much hotter than my actual date…**
> 
>  
> 
> _OK, what the hell. This could even have been the actual canon reason why Skye broke up with Miles in the first place, who knows…_

 

 

“She can’t be half your age,” Rollins nudged Brock. “Put your tongue back in. You’re drooling.”

“Every guy with eyes in this place is fuckin’ drooling,” Brock responded, “you’re just too chicken to go talk to her.”

“So are you,” a sharp elbow connected with his ribs.

“Oh, fuck you!” but he never could resist a dare, so he was on his feet and crossing the bar to the beautiful brunette sitting alone before his brain caught up. “Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath, but she’d already spotted his approach and looked up at him with a quizzical smile.

“Hi,” Brock muttered, suddenly feeling really dumb. And like a dirty old man, because she barely looked old enough to be drinking the beer in front of her at the table. “I - can’t think of anything to say to you except the really cheesy line that a girl as gorgeous as you really shouldn’t be drinking alone, on any night of the year, but especially not Valentine’s Day.”

Skye had to laugh, as the guy grinned down at her. He was a good deal older than she was, in his early forties she guessed, but ridiculously handsome in a darkly rugged, muscular sort of way, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“Well, I’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend here.” Her phone chirped, and she frowned at it. “Miles, you are _not_ here,” she muttered, annoyed, looking around and then back at her phone again. Blinking, she looked back up at the guy who’d just made her feel a good deal better about herself, anyway. “I… don’t suppose there’s another Cheesecake Factory in this town, is there?” she suddenly thought to ask.

“I’m afraid there is, yeah.”

“Oh, _shit_.” Her phone chirped again, and she looked down to see a _Just fuck it, Skye, I don’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day anyway_ text. “Oh,” her shoulders drooped.

“Whoever he or she is, they don’t deserve you,” Brock said impulsively, hating to see that dejected look on her face. “Please, can I buy you a drink?”

He had an absolutely panty-melting voice, Skye thought, all deep and raspy. And the stubble on his cheeks was making her think really wicked thoughts about beard burn. Never mind the sensual promise in his eyes.

“I’d absolutely _love_ a drink.”


	4. Steve/Wanda, 23, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Date Gone Wrong - rained out picnic, bank robbery, a mugging…**
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh boy. So many possibilities. All right, here we go._

 

“You know what, Loki, today is just not the day to fucking mess with me.”

Steve had been thinking longingly about punching the Trickster for quite a long time now. He put all of his strength behind the blow and got a good deal of satisfaction in seeing blood begin to drip from Loki’s nose.

“Such language from a righteous man,” Loki said mockingly, sidestepping the next punch. “Is today important for some reason?”

“It is the feast of St. Valentine, Loki,” Thor snapped. Steve was pretty sure that Thor was just waiting his turn to start whaling on Loki as well. “For those with love partners, it is an important day, on Midgard!”

“Ah, the Captain has a _girlfriend_!” Loki turned a sparkling look on Steve, parrying another punch. “Oho, and has she corrupted your precious morals as yet?”

Steve had to laugh. “Loki, Loki… you really, really don’t want to mess with my girlfriend.” He stepped back to let Thor take a turn at whacking the renegade demigod. “She’s already annoyed with you for interrupting our date.”

“But I must meet this paragon of womanhood!” Loki ducked Thor’s swing, grabbed hold of Steve’s arm. Green light flashed, the world _wrenched_ sideways…

… and they were suddenly in the living room of Steve’s apartment.

For the first time since Erskine’s serum, Steve felt queasy. He clutched at his stomach, fighting the feeling down as Wanda rose gracefully from the couch, her green eyes narrowing.

“The Captain’s lady-love,” Loki swaggered forward, “well, he certainly has an eye for beauty…” his mouth dropped open as Wanda’s eyes flashed red and her hands came up. A bolt of red energy smashed into his chest, knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing back into the wall. Intangible cords wound around him, stoppering his mouth and binding his limbs. Incredulous, he attempted to thrash free, to reach his own magic - and found that he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger.

“I _did_ tell you that it wasn’t a good idea to piss her off,” Steve said with a shake of his head, looking down at the obviously furious, helpless Loki.

Smiling, Wanda tucked her arm through Steve’s. “I put dinner in the oven to stay warm, darling. Let’s go and finish it off.”

“Absolutely, darling,” Steve placed his hand over Wanda’s. “Thanks for dealing with him. My knuckles were getting sore from all the punching.”

“Any time,” Wanda smiled up at Steve, turned a fulminating glare on Loki. Poking him with a tiny foot as she passed, she promised darkly;

“I’ll deal with _you_ later.”

Loki shivered with fright.


	5. Bucky/Jane, 23, for iamartemisday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Date Gone Wrong - rained out picnic, bank robbery, a mugging…**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Apparently everyone likes the Date Gone Wrong idea. So many possibilities…_

She’d been so _proud_ of herself. Not only had she remembered it was Valentine’s Day, but she’d organised a gorgeous picnic for them to have atop the roof of the Facility, and set up her telescope just perfectly to show Bucky the constellations she’d been talking to him about.

And it had just started absolutely _pissing_ down with rain.

Bucky found Jane on the roof, shouting angrily at the sky. Shaking his head over the fact that his girlfriend had the apparent common sense of a gnat, he scooped her off her feet, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her, dripping, down to his room.

Not all of the water was rain, he discovered to his anguish as he set her on her feet after hauling her into the bathroom and starting to pull her drenched clothes off. Her eyes were red-rimmed with tears.

“Janey,” gently he framed her face in both his hands, loving the way she didn’t flinch from the cold metal on one side. “Darcy told me about the effort you put in. It’s the thought that counts, doll. You can show me your stars any night at all.”

“Really?” Jane hiccoughed, blinking up at him.

“Really. Now get your frozen soaked butt in this hot shower and warm up before you catch your death.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “If you’ll come in with me and wash my back?”

“That sounds like my idea of a _really good_ Valentine’s Day date anyway,” Bucky replied with a sly grin.


	6. WinterBird, 20, for swifteforeverandalways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This is the wrong restaurant I just realised but holy shit this guy/girl is so much hotter than my actual date…**
> 
>  
> 
> _Not part of any previous AU. And Bucky is supposed to be meeting Steve, Natasha and other friends, not an actual date :)_

 

“I’m sure he said seven,” Bucky checked his watch again, fished his phone out of his pocket. _Where the hell are you, punk?_ he texted.

_Waiting for you, jerk!_ the response was almost instantaneous.

“I’m right here at the restaurant!” he almost barked at the phone, typing it in. He had to steady his hand to make sure he didn’t crack the phone in irritation. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“You know there’s two Luigiano Marcello’s in Brooklyn, right?” an amused voice said beside him.

Startled, Bucky turned to his right, saw the tall blonde beauty leaning on the bar as a bartender set some drinks down in front of her.

“There are?” he said blankly.

“Yeah. The other one’s about twelve blocks from here. I’m sure your date would forgive you, if you hurried.” Blue eyes glinted with amusement.

“Not a date, just a buddy and some other friends,” Bucky said, a little thrown by how stunning she was.

“Hit that, Bob, go for it!” a female voice hollered, and the blonde turned away, made a face and a  go-away gesture at a small group of women sitting at a table.

“Sorry. My friends, they can get a bit obnoxious sometimes,” she turned back, smiling sheepishly.

“Don’t apologise. I know how they can get,” Bucky shrugged, recovering his poise. “You know, I think my buddy can do without me. You’re _much_ prettier than he is anyway.”

The blonde laughed at that. “If you’re who I think you are, and your buddy is who I think _he_ is, that’s actually quite a whopper fib you just told me.” She glanced pointedly down at his metal hand.

“That’s all a matter of who’s doin’ the lookin’, ain’t it?” Bucky grinned back at her. “And from where I’m standin’, you sure are a sight for sore eyes.”

She could hear May, Jemma and Daisy getting ever more raucous behind her. Discreetly flipping them the finger behind her back, Bobbi smiled at Bucky flirtatiously.

“Well, if I can tempt you into staying a while - how about a drink?”

“Music to my ears, doll.” He ignored the vibration of his phone as another text message came in. “So tell me, what’s your name?”


	7. Skye/Wanda, 6, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You’re the most annoying person I know but I think I’m in love with you anyway oh help**
> 
> Not a soulmates AU
> 
> _(Please note, unless I’m specifically setting a fic in a time pre-the end of S2, I will always refer to Skye as Daisy)._

Daisy tried, very hard, not to grind her teeth. She really did. But God, Wanda was annoying. She was _such_ a know-it all.

And the worst part was, Wanda really fucking _did_ know-it-all. She just read other people’s minds, invading their privacy without even thinking about whether she _should_ or not.

It did make it impossible for enemies to lie to or mislead them. Everyone else seemed to absolutely love that part of it. They didn’t seem to care that Wanda saw into their deepest hearts.

Or perhaps they did care, but they just accepted that Wanda literally couldn’t help it, as May had told Daisy once when she heard her muttering about it. They trusted Wanda to keep their secrets.

The only problem was that Daisy had a secret she really didn’t want Wanda to know. She kept as far away as possible, but sometimes she saw the other girl looking at her with an expression she really couldn’t decipher.

Not that Wanda pushed it, which Daisy was very grateful for.

At least, she never had pushed it. Not until right now, when Daisy opened her door to a knock and found the beautiful Sokovian leaning negligently on the doorframe, a mysterious little smile playing about her lips.

“Um,” Daisy said ineloquently.

“So,” Wanda replied.

They stared at each other for a long minute.

“So, eet ees the feast of St Valentine,” Wanda said at last, “the day to spend with the people we love, ees eet not?”


	8. Rumlow/Rollins/Daisy, 6, for ralyroger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You’re the most annoying person I know but I think I’m in love with you anyway oh help_
> 
>  
> 
> The prompt was actually for HydraHusbands (Rumlow/Rollins for those of you who don’t know), but I don't write them without a female third, so I cheated and added Daisy onto this prompt. And yes, it’s set in [the Soulmate AU where she ‘inherited’ them from Alexander Pierce](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4167942/chapters/10898864) :)

They were driving her _utterly fucking insane_. Despite the fact that they’d both agreed to give her space, not to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for, she seemed to be tripping over one or both of them every time she turned around.

If they’d been watching _her_ , she could maybe have said something about it. But it was much worse than that. They were scoping everyone _around_ her with hard, searching eyes, looking out for her. _Bodyguarding_ her. And since that was their damned _job description_ she really couldn’t quibble about it!

Daisy had been endlessly surprised when Coulson had accepted the pair into SHIELD with very little argument. The fact that they’d both been positively chatty in the Lie Detector, holding nothing back whatsoever about their former activities, Hydra operations and otherwise, had probably helped.

Mind you, it probably wouldn’t have done any good if Coulson _had_ tried to keep them away, Daisy reflected darkly. For two big men they both seemed to have near-supernatural stealth abilities. And while they’d both agreed that their soulmateship with her was something to be explored when and if she was ready, their duty to safeguard her was apparently non-negotiable.

“Oh, fucking hell, _no_ ,” she said crossly as she turned from the microwave, her bowl of popcorn in her hands, to find them both standing behind her, taking up far too much room in the kitchen with their height and muscles and overall _masculinity_. “Guys, seriously. It’s Valentine’s Day, literally everybody else is out on dates. There’s nobody to protect me _from_.”

 _And I really don’t want to be thinking about how hot the both of you are, and how I’m pretty sure all I’d have to do is crook my little finger…_ she squashed the thought firmly.

Brock raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t  _you_ think a lot of yourself,” he said mockingly. “We know, Daisy. We’ve given ourselves the evening off. Planned to spend it  _together_.”

The mere thought of what the two of them might get up to together sent her brain into a complete tailspin. She stood, mouth open, trying frantically to process that.

“But when Brock asked what I’d like to do for Valentine’s Day, I said I’d like a quiet evening in with a bottle of wine,” Jack put in, holding up a bottle. A very nice red, Daisy couldn’t help but notice. “So if you don’t mind…”

“Oh.” Awkwardly, she stumbled to one side, banged her elbow on the kitchen bench. The popcorn bowl tilted dangerously.

Warm hands clasped over hers, steadying them. Brock smiled down at her. “Careful.”

“Um.” She couldn’t look away from his eyes, gleaming with amusement. Until her gaze slid down to his lips.

_Which had been haunting her dreams far too many nights, lately..._

“Of course,” Jack straightened up from the cupboard, a pair of wine glasses dangling from his fingers… _those long, strong fingers which featured heavily in her erotic fantasies…_ “You could join us. If you wanted.”


	9. Hunter/Darcy, 23, for Anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_This is BOUND to be Jane’s fault, isn’t it?_ **
> 
> **_Set in the[Soulmates AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/5941346) for this pair, which does have a [Sexytimes sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4217454/chapters/13457014), if you haven't seen that yet!_ **

 

“Of course, Mr Hunter,” the greeter said with a smile, “your table is right this way.”

“Oh _wow_ ,” Darcy sighed with pleasure as they were shown to a window table with an amazing view out over New York. “Lance, this is _amazing_. How did you swing _this_?”

He held her chair for her, grinning with pleasure at her delight. “Well, it turns out that sucking up to Pepper has all sorts of benefits. That woman knows _everybody_.”

“Good looking _and_ smart, clearly you really are my soulmate.” Darcy grinned up at him as he eased her chair in, and he swooped in for a kiss before moving around to the other side of the table and seating himself. The hovering waiter presented them both with menus before retreating.

“She did say she’d try for a table without a view of the Tower, but I think it’d be pretty difficult, honestly,” Hunter said with a smile, “and at least it’s way off over there.” He waved over to the far left side of their view.

Darcy turned to look.

Just as a dazzlingly bright beam of rainbow light arced up from the Tower roof into the sky.

“Oh _no_ ,” Hunter said dismally.

Darcy was already grabbing for her bag. “I _knew_ leaving Jane alone on Valentine’s Day with Thor on Asgard was a recipe for disaster!”


	10. Victoria Hand/Sif, 5, for chandak562

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The prompt actually went as follows: "Could I ask for 5. Chocolates or candy hearts (Bonus points if they contain something the other half of your OTP is allergic to (think Tony Stark and the strawberries for Pepper)) Please? I would love something with Victoria Hand but if you're just doing pairings you've already written with, any Loki pairing would be fantastic."**
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh, I think for one of my most loyal fans I could conjure up something new :) A brand new ship just for you, hon!_

_In this AU, Victoria survived the fall of SHIELD and is now working for Coulson. Sif gets her ass banished from Asgard by Loki/Odin and volunteers to help Coulson because she doesn’t particularly want Thor to know how much trouble she’s in._

Victoria hesitated, drew a deep breath for courage. Not that she ever lacked for courage normally, but then - how many mortals ever even got the chance to make a move on an apparently immortal demigod(dess)? She smiled at her own foolishness and pushed the door open.

Sif looked up from her book. She lay in a loose-limbed, casual sprawl across the couch in the Senior Officers’ Quarters. Victoria envied Sif’s ability to apparently relax anywhere, anytime. But then, after a thousand years of war, she supposed such opportunities were precious and to be seized whenever possible.

“Victoria!” Sif’s smile was bright and welcoming. “How do you do, this grey and wintry day? And where is everyone? The base is quite deserted!”

“Well, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Victoria said. Sif cocked her head inquiringly, so Victoria expanded. “The feast of St. Valentine - a day for lovers, traditionally, to give each other gifts and celebrate their love. Or to confess to it, or not - some send gifts or messages anonymously, to the objects of their affection...”

“That is beautiful!” Sif sat upright, dropping her book, her smile broadening. “What kind of gifts are traditional?”

Victoria looked down at the box in her hands. “Um. Chocolate, or flowers - any token of esteem, really.”

“Oh,” Sif looked at the box too, her smile fading slightly. “You have received such a token? I congratulate you.” Her voice was a little flat, and Victoria took heart from the small sign.

“Actually,” she extended the box, “I got these for you.”

The light in Sif’s eyes, the smile on her lips, told Victoria everything she needed to know.


	11. Wanda/Tony, 15, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **_Serenade (oh boy, you REALLY can’t sing, but… that was kinda cute anyway)_ **
> 
> **_We can’t possibly have any fic involving Tony and music without some AC/DC, guys._ **

 

Wanda had discovered that she quite liked to knit. It was relaxing, mindless; the _click_ of the needles often soothed her into a somnolent state and she didn’t have to think too hard unless the pattern got really complicated.

She was busily knitting away when the most godawful noise made her drop a couple of stitches with shock. She dropped the whole pile of yarn and needles into her lap a moment later, her mouth falling open, as Tony came into the room, Rhodey sidling in behind him with a guitar, looking appallingly embarrassed.

As well he might, having to play guitar while Tony sang.

At least, she _thought_ he was singing. It sounded like… well, she’d never heard anything like it to compare it _to_ , but she suspected that a roomful of cats being murdered with a chainsaw might sound something like _that_.

“ _When you smile I see stars in the sky_

_When you smile I see sunrise_

_And I know you've been thinking of me_

_And I know how you want it to be_

_Oh Wanda!_ ”

She began to laugh as she finally recognised the song, realising Tony had changed the “Oh Jean” of _Love Song_ to her name.

Rhodey stopped playing and fled with a look of relief on his face as she gestured to him. Tony determinedly kept on ‘singing’ _a cappella_ until the end of the song, and despite how awful it sounded, she really didn’t have the heart to stop him. Setting her knitting aside as he warbled the last notes, careless of the dropped stitches, she leaned forward to frame his face in her hands.

“Dear Tony, I love you very, very much. But please, never _ever_ sing to me again.”


	12. Steve/Daisy, 18, for magickgirl786

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Movie night with a friend turns unexpectedly romantic_ **
> 
> **_GUYS GUYS I AM SCREAMING ABOUT THIS ONE._ **
> 
> **_I sent magickgirl786 a query to ask if there was a particular movie she’d like featured in this ask and she said she’d quite like a TV show instead._ **
> 
> **_She wanted_ ** **Kingdom _. And Steve noticing that Daisy’s crushing a bit on that guy who bears a terrible resemblance to that traitorous bastard Brock fucking Rumlow…_**

“So what are we watching?” Steve sprawled onto the couch next to Daisy, taking up most of the space and a big handful of her popcorn. She smiled slightly and moved the bowl onto his lap.

“ _Kingdom_. It’s about an MMA - mixed martial arts - gym in LA. It’s the only ‘fighting’ show May will let me watch. She says they do it properly.”

“Holy mother of God!” Steve shot upright. Guessing what had made him react, Daisy put out a soothing hand.

“I know; May pretty much had that reaction the first time she saw it too. She and Coulson checked up, though; the actor’s no relation to Brock Rumlow.”

“Damn!” Steve subsided back onto the couch, rubbing his head a bit sheepishly. “He looks a bit too much like that traitorous bastard for my peace of mind,” he muttered.

“Does he? I never met Rumlow.” Daisy considered the TV screen. “I have to say I think he’s hot as fuck. Hot damn, _whoo-eee_ ,” as Alvey Kulina worked up a sweat and stripped his shirt off.

Feeling unaccountably jealous, Steve crunched down on a big mouthful of popcorn to stop himself from saying something very rude.

Daisy glanced sideways at Steve as she realised she’d sworn and Steve hadn’t instinctively said “Language!” He was scowling at the TV screen.

“We could watch something else, if you prefer,” she said nobly. “I can record this and watch it with the girls later. Fitz and Hunter get all funny and stroppy about it too, oddly enough.”

“I’m not stroppy about it!” Steve said stroppily.

“Suuuure.” She tossed a TV guide at him. Returned her attention to the TV as he started flipping pages.

She was _drooling_. The pages started to tear under Steve’s fingers as he stared. Sucking his breath in, he dragged his eyes away, looked down. “ _How I Met Your Mother_ is on the other channel,” he said almost mindlessly. “I quite like that.”

Daisy snorted. “Only because that actress who plays Robin looks like Maria Hill, and we all know you’ve got the hots for her.”

“What? I do not!” Steve said, startled.

“Sure you do! Come on, we’ve all heard about your weakness for badass brunettes,” Daisy sniped, turning to face him.

Stuttering with surprise at the way she’d turned suddenly confrontational, Steve instinctively bit back. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve got the hots for that guy who looks like Rumlow, then. Considering _your_ known weakness for bad guys.”

Daisy’s mouth dropped open, and tears welled suddenly in her eyes. “That was a low blow,” she said quietly, and Steve suddenly felt like the biggest heel in creation.

“Oh God. Daisy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was jealous.”

“What?” she blinked at him, startled, and Steve realised he’d given himself away.

_Well, I already dug myself a pretty huge hole. Might as well jump in and bury myself in it…_

“You seem to go for the dark and dangerous type and I wish you didn’t,” he blurted out. “You deserve so much better than a ‘bad boy’ kind of guy, Daisy, you deserve to be treasured and treated like a queen, like the amazing gal you are.”

She stared at him, lips parted, her eyes incredulous. Unable to hold back any longer, Steve leaned in and kissed her, savouring the softness of her lips. Tensing in anticipation of the smack on his cheek which never came.

Instead he somehow found himself with a lapful of Daisy, her arms winding around his neck as she kissed him back. Her fingers slid into his hair as their tongues danced sensually with each other. Quite sure he was in some sort of heavenly dream, Steve groaned ecstatically into her mouth, his arms stealing slowly around her to hold her close to him.

“How long?” Daisy whispered from kiss-swollen lips when she finally drew back, and Steve knew exactly what she meant.

“Since the first day we met,” he answered honestly. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met.”

She smiled, leaning back in. “I’ve been in love with you far longer than that,” she whispered, just before kissing him again.


	13. Hawksilver, 17, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****_**Flirting up a storm** _
> 
> _Not part of the soulmates AU for this pair :) And no Laura in this ‘verse, obviously! You can consider[Rough Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3855490) to be canon, though._
> 
> _What am I talking about, OF COURSE Rough Day is canon…_

Clint ground his teeth. Again.

“Pietro, for the last fucking time - I _don’t care_ if I didn’t see it coming. I am not fighting against _you_ here. This is practice for me shooting _other people_!”

He couldn’t even see the damn kid. But none of his arrows had hit the target and there was only one way they could be disappearing out of thin air before they even got there.

“Just keeping you sharp, old man,” a laughing voice said by his ear.

“I’ll give you _old_ , you cheeky little shit,” Clint said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

Holy shit, had Pietro just kissed his neck? He slapped at the spot, startled. Grabbed another arrow from his quiver, nocked and drew.

“Do not fucking mess with this one. It’s gotta hit the target.”

The arrow flew straight and true from the bow. And a scream escaped Clint as it hit Pietro right in the heart, as the speedster suddenly appeared right in front of the target.

Only it hadn’t hit him in the heart, because the aggravating little bastard had caught it.

“ _Jesus Christ_ you fucking _maniac_ you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Clint screamed, dropping his bow and sprinting down the range to the younger man. He grabbed Pietro by the shoulders and shook him. “I could have killed you!”

Pietro’s cheeky smile was nowhere in evidence as he dropped the arrow and reached out, taking hold of Clint’s arms. “No, I knew what I was doing.”

“Couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” Clint confessed, his heart still racing at a million miles a minute. “I nearly lost you once…”

“You won’t lose me.” Pietro’s blue eyes gleamed. “I promise.”

Suddenly realising what he’d just done, Clint dropped his hands - and Pietro grabbed them. “Don’t let go.”

Pietro _knew_. He knew about Clint’s stupid crush on him. _Oh God, Wanda must have told him._ Clint wanted to fall through the floor.

Pietro grinned, the little shit, at Clint’s expression. And then, still holding onto Clint’s hands, he leaned forward and kissed him.

“Don’t say it,” Clint warned, even as he found himself melting against the younger man.

“Clint, everyone _but_ you saw this one coming.”


	14. Steve/Bucky/Skye, 14, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Wingman (bonus points if this turns into a threesome)_
> 
> _eek,[Lady Winterlight already did this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5977288/chapters/13749655) \- OK, I’ll try a different take on it! _

“I ain’t seen you like this over a dame since Peggy Carter,” Bucky grinned at Steve.

“Shut up, you jerk,” Steve groused, the tips of his ears already scarlet. But then they had been since the beautiful brunette her friends called Daisy had walked into the room. Steve hadn’t taken his eyes off her since.

“Introduce me.”

“Hell no,” Steve said instinctively, and Bucky broke up laughing.

“You’re such an idiot. Girls haven’t looked at me with you in the room since you got big.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Bucky was already off, smiling and breaking hearts with his famous charm, Steve thought glumly.

Bucky snagged one of the ridiculous number of pink heart-shaped balloons Stark had seen fit to decorate his penthouse with for his Valentine’s Day party and presented it to Daisy.

“Here’s your heart, doll,” he grinned and winked down at her. She laughed up at him.

“My heart? Not yours?”

“If I gave you mine your secret admirer would probably kill me.”

“My what?” Daisy blinked.

“He really hasn’t ever learned to talk to girls,” Bucky marvelled, chuckling. “Stevie, doll. He’s been starin’ at you with heart eyes ever since you walked in.”

She blinked at him, startled. Looked at the red-faced Steve lurking on the other side of the room, his expression a curious mix of chagrin and jealousy. Looked back at Bucky.

“Are you acting wingman, here?”

“Punk ain’t never gonna make a move by himself.”

That made her laugh, and she put a hand on his arm, leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“Well, maybe we should make a move together.”

Bucky froze. Looked down at her. She couldn’t possibly be suggesting what he thought she was…

Daisy arched an eyebrow. “What, are you going to tell me that you _haven’t_ been holding a torch for him forever?”


	15. Steve/Bucky/Wanda, 14, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ Wingman (bonus points if this turns into a threesome) _
> 
> _ I’m having Thoughts about Vision wanting his strange squishy human friends to be happy, and somewhat clumsily trying to matchmake :) _

They were such a pair of  _ idiots _ . Wanda ground her teeth slightly, watching the two tall men arguing quietly on the other side of the room. Arguing over which one of them was going to ask her out, when she’d already made it clear that she was interested in both of them.

Perhaps she should have made it clear that it wasn’t an either/or situation she was interested in, she mused. But - that was rather embarrassing to confess to, and she wasn’t sure she could bear it if they looked at her with revulsion. She’d never seen a hint in either of their minds that they’d even  _ contemplated  _ the idea. Sighing, she looked down at her hands, fiddled with her rings. How could they not see that it was impossible to choose one of them over the other, that it was utterly beyond her to break either of their hearts that way?

“Seeing Wanda look sad is not a good thing,” Vision said abruptly, making Steve and Bucky both jump. Neither of them had heard their colleague’s approach. “She is alone on Valentine’s Day. That is inappropriate when there are not one but two men who love her.”

“Vision, you’re an AI, what do you know about love?” Bucky scoffed.

“It may be an emotion I do not entirely comprehend, but my research indicates that this is a special day for humans. Allowing a person that you care for to be alone and unhappy on this day is a cruel act and unworthy of you both.”

“That’s what I keep tellin’ Steve,” Bucky hissed back, keeping his voice down. “But the dumb punk’s tryin’ ta be noble.”

“She loves  _ you _ !” Steve snarled under his breath. “I’m not gonna make a move on a girl with feelings for somebody else,  _ ‘specially  _ not you!”

“She deserves better than a broken-down wreck like me,” Bucky said bitterly.

There was no way that either of them would budge, it was clear to Vision. He looked across the room at Wanda, at her evident pain.

He did not like it.

“You are both foolish. Can you not see that if she loves you both, the resolution should be simple?”

Bucky turned his glare from Steve (stubborn idiot) to Vision (clearly insane AI). “What?”

“She loves you both, you both love her.” Vision looked at both of the men in front of him curiously. “So obviously, both of you should be with her.”

Steve’s fists clenched. “Wanda’s a  _ lady _ , Vision,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You don’t  _ say  _ that sort of thing about her.”

“Damn right,” Bucky snarled.

“I can see that there will be no reasoning with either of you until she herself makes it clear. Very well.” And Vision strode away towards Wanda.

“You don’t think he’s gonna suggest  _ that  _ to  _ her _ , do you?” Bucky said after a moment of stunned silence.

Steve stared at him. “Oh, my God.”

They both bolted after him. But they were too late. Vision was already speaking to Wanda before departing the room, leaving the three of them alone.

“Wanda, he doesn’t really understand how relationships work,” Steve said almost desperately, “he didn’t mean to insult you,  _ we  _ didn’t mean to insult you, you’re a lady, we know that’s not a possibility…”

“It is only an impossibility because you two will not choose it,” Wanda said simply, standing up, smoothing her skirt.

They both gaped at her as she walked away. Looked at each other before gaping after her again.

Stopping at the door, Wanda turned to look back at them, her eyebrows going up. “It really hadn’t occurred to either of you that could be a possibility, had it?” she said curiously, before a little smirk curved her lips. “Well. When you’ve had time to think about it - you can come find me.”

It took about twenty seconds before they jammed shoulders in the doorway sprinting after her.


	16. Jemma/Rollins, 24, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine? _
> 
> _ This might not be quite what you were expecting, but… I can see it happening this way! _
> 
> _ Rollins turned out to be not-Hydra and has returned to work for SHIELD as leader of STRIKE in this AU. _

Jemma glanced up at the soft thud of boots entering her lab. It was Rollins, the big STRIKE commander with the scarred chin and the crooked smile. He offered her a quick smile and a nod now before crossing the room to speak with Katie, one of her lab technicians. She’d seen the two of them speaking together several times, realised now that they must be dating as Rollins bent to kiss Katie’s cheek.

Katie’s smile didn’t exactly look sincere as she nodded, though, Jemma couldn’t help but notice. And once Rollins had left, she heard Katie say to the friend working next to her;

“Ugh, I’m sorry I hit on him in the first place now. I was just looking for a quick fuck and he seems to have dreams of picket fences. He sent me  _ roses  _ for Valentine’s Day, for chrissakes.”

Her friend snickered. “So where’s this date?”

“He’s got a table at Augello’s,” Katie said. “And, I mean, it’d be a really nice expensive dinner, I suppose, but I’m just not interested. I’m gonna stand him up.”

“Let’s go clubbing instead,” he friend suggested, and the two of them started giggling and making plans while Jemma quietly seethed.

What a  _ terrible  _ thing to do to a good man. And a nice one, too; she’d heard Jack Rollins talking to one of the junior agents once after a mission when things had gone wrong, reassuring the younger man. Daisy had done some work with the STRIKE team too and praised Rollins’ leadership.

Making her decision, Jemma took out her phone and dialled, going into the small office she used at the end of the lab for some privacy.

“Augello’s,” the call was quickly answered.

“Oh, hi, I’ve got a reservation with my date for tonight and I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve forgotten what time! I don’t want to have to confess to him…” she trailed off with a little giggle.

“Of course, miss. What name is the reservation in?” the voice at the other end was amused.

“Rollins. Jack Rollins.”

“That’s at seven-thirty, miss. We’ll see you then.”

Jemma hung up with a smile. Katie might not be interested in Jack Rollins, but Jemma would be damned if she’d let him have a miserable evening because an idiot of a girl was too silly to recognise a fine man when she had one.

Jack checked his watch for the tenth time. Ten to eight. He sneaked a look at his phone. No reply to his texts. His shoulders drooped. 

He had the terrible, sinking feeling that he’d been stood up. And he’d rather liked Katie. She was a bit young and sometimes silly, but she’d made him laugh, and he’d thought she liked him too.

Even the waiter was giving him pitying looks now. He closed his eyes against the rising wave of humiliation.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, darling,” a light, feminine voice with an English accent said. “Couldn’t get away.” Soft lips pecked his cheek and Jack’s eyes snapped open.

He stared, disbelieving, at the gorgeous Dr. Simmons, settling herself into the seat opposite, smiling at him.

_ OK, I’ve fallen through a portal into a parallel universe. _

“Um,” was all he could manage to say, utterly stunned. “Um, Dr. Simmons, I think there’s been some kind of mistake…”

“Call me Jemma, please. And there’s no mistake.” She smiled at him, said quietly “I overheard Katie this afternoon planning to stand you up. I didn’t think she’d be horrid enough to go through with it, so I waited outside to see if she’d turn up.”

He stared at her incredulously. She was all dressed up in a beautiful gold-coloured dress, reflecting the highlights in her brown hair, the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. “How do  _ you  _ not have a date?” he said finally.

“Well, nobody asked me,” Jemma smiled at him. “I’m sorry for crashing yours. I know I’m obviously not your choice, but I couldn’t let you spend the evening alone after being stood up - I’ll pay for my own dinner, of course…”

Jack reached out, caught her hand as she gestured it expressively. “Thank you very much, Jemma,” he said sincerely. “I can hardly believe nobody’s asked you for a date on Valentine’s, but I’m very glad you gave your evening up for my sake. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

She gave him a shy smile. “You’re welcome. I think Katie’s an utter idiot for standing you up.”

“I think,” Jack said slowly, “I should have got the guts up to ask  _ you  _ out long ago. But I didn’t think you’d be interested in a soldier grunt like me.”

Jemma shook her head at him. “Don’t put yourself down, Jack. You’re a catch.”

He tightened his hold on her hand, caressing her fingers lightly. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got me hooked.”


	17. Steve/Wanda, 10, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_First Kiss_ **
> 
> _Fits in the[Soulmate fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/7391054) for these two, which is AU for AoU. They do end up battling Ultron anyway but the Twins are always on the Avengers’ side and everything is over much more quickly - probably in South Africa, actually, without Wanda sending Hulk on a rampage._

 

“Are you all right?” Steve bent to help Wanda up. She smiled, accepting his hand - waving Pietro back. Her brother rolled his eyes not at all discreetly at her and sped off.

“I am.” She looked down at the destroyed remnants of Ultron on the ground close by. “Is it over?”

“Stark says so.”

“Thank goodness.” She stumbled as she tried to take a step, and Steve stopped her.

“Please, Wanda, let me carry you.” Slinging his shield onto his back, he lifted her gently into his arms. She snuggled against him with a happy little sigh.

“This is nice, Steven.” One small hand touched his cheek lightly. “With so much happening, we have had no time to spend together. Just you and I.”

He could feel himself blushing, wished his cowl covered more of his face. “You needed time to recover, anyway,” he muttered gruffly, carrying her out of the salvage ship and back towards the quinjet. “Being locked up as Hydra’s lab rats for so long.”

They were quite alone on the quinjet as he set her gently down on her feet. Or would have, but her slender arms locked tight around his neck, and he was forced to support her weight, since she was tiny enough her toes didn’t reach the floor.

“I am quite recovered, Steven. I assure you.” Her green eyes dropped to his mouth, and she licked her lips. “ _Quite_ recovered.”

There hadn’t been all that many kisses since - or before - 1945, but Steve wasn’t about to ignore that blatant an invitation, not from Wanda, his beautiful soulmate. He kissed her, planning to make it only a light peck, but Wanda had other ideas. Her arms tightened further around his neck and she opened her mouth, tongue darting lightly out to trace over his lips.

They were passionately entwined when Pietro entered the jet.

“ _Nyet, nyet, nyet!_ ” he covered his eyes and retreated at top speed. “Tell them to get a damned room!” he shouted at Clint in passing.


	18. Bucky/Beth, 24, for marvelfanuniverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?**_

 

  


“Hi Bucky,” Beth chirped cheerfully as he came up beside her at the bar. He smiled down at her, noting the glamorous red dress, her beautifully styled hair. Cheekily, he gave a low whistle.

“Looking fabulous there, doll.”

“Oh, you,” she elbowed him playfully.

“No, I’m serious. Who’s the lucky fella?”

“Tom, of course,” Beth shook her head at Bucky, smiling. “It’s been three months now, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, Tom.” He’d seen the guy around with Beth. A bit of a chinless wonder. They often frequented this bar near the Tower where most of the Avengers liked to go in their downtime.

“And this is what you’re doing for Valentine’s, is it? How is this a special date?” Bucky queried. “You guys come here regularly.”

Beth looked down at her hands. She’d wondered that herself, had suggested to Tom that they go somewhere nice for dinner, but he’d vetoed the idea, calling her silly.

“And where is he, anyway? It’s almost ten o’clock.” Bucky began to feel a little worried about Beth.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, almost inaudibly. “I’ve been texting him, he says he’s on his way.” She looked at the phone sitting on the bar.

Bucky picked the phone up and tapped the screen a few times. “Beth, he’s been saying that since eight!”

She bit her lip, her eyes cast down to the floor. Bucky looked at her downcast face and hit the call button.

“Beth, I told you I’m on my way,” Tom’s irritated voice said.

“Listen, you asshole, there’s a beautiful woman sitting here waiting for you and if you ain’t here in the next five minutes I’m cuttin’ you out,” Bucky snapped.

There was a momentary silence, and then Tom sighed. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re welcome to her. She’s got dreams of white picket fences and I don’t.” There was a _click_ , and the line went dead.

“What an utter fuckin’ asshole,” Bucky said in incredulous rage, looking at the phone screen. Furious, he deleted Tom’s contact info from Beth’s phone, even as she gaped at him in astonishment. And then he slid onto the seat beside Beth and turned on every ounce of the patented Bucky Barnes charm.

“Well, now he’s out of the way, I’m makin’ my move. Tell me what you’d really like to do for Valentine’s Day, doll, and I’ll damn well make it happen.”


	19. Coulson/Sif 22, for backwardsandinhighheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Secret admirer/secret crush** _

 

Coulson blinked in astonishment at the envelope centred neatly on his desk.

It was red.

“Is that what I think it is?” May leaned forward in amusement as they reached the desk. “Oooh, Phil’s got an admirer!”

“Melinda,” he gave her a quelling look. But there was no denying that it was Valentine’s Day and there was a red envelope in the middle of his desk. Picking it up, he looked it over, but there was no writing on it, no clues as to where it had come from. He bit his lip and eased his finger under the seal.

May watched Phil’s face as he slipped the card out of the envelope, opened it and looked at the inside. His eyebrows shot up with what she was pretty sure was severe shock.

“Who’s it from, is it signed?” she asked curiously.

“It’s not signed, no,” Phil said, his tone rather incredulous, “but I’m pretty sure I know who it’s from.”

“How can you be sure?”

For answer, he handed her the card. “Because it’s got _To the Son of Coul_ written inside in gorgeous, old-fashioned, calligraphic writing?”

May chuckled. “I told Sif she hadn’t got the guts to do it in case you figured out her crush. That girl just can’t resist a dare.”

“What?” Phil looked even more stunned.

“Oh come on, she’s done everything but club you round the head with the hilt of her sword and haul you off over her shoulder!”

“What?”

“Close your mouth, Phil, you look like a carp.”


	20. Bucky/Thor with bonus Darcy, 24, for taleasadubh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_
> 
> _I have to admit that I sat and stared at this one bemused for several minutes, thinking ‘how does this one work?’ But… hey, what the hell. I like a challenge :)_
> 
> _(It’s not Steve who stands Bucky up, just some nameless asshole)_

“I mislike to see our brother so distressed,” Thor rumbled, formidable arms crossed over his chest. There was a frown on his noble brow that didn’t bode well for the weather.

“That asshole, standing Bucky up,” Darcy agreed.

“‘Tis a low and wicked act at any time of year, but on the feast of St. Valentine, ‘tis sheer cruelty.”

Thor seemed particularly emphatic. Darcy looked up at him curiously, saw the fury in his blue eyes. Heard thunder beginning to rumble ominously in the distance. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “you should step in.”

“I beg your pardon?” Thor blinked and looked down at her.

“I would, and I’m sure we’d have a nice dinner and all, but Bucky really doesn’t swing that way romantically. Whereas you, my giant labrador friend, I’ve seen him eyeing those waving golden locks and magnificent biceps.” She gave Thor a playful pat on the arm. Darcy had long ago learned the hard way that punching Thor even lightly led to very bruised knuckles. Even patting his arm was like patting concrete. Very _smooth_ concrete, but _very_ hard. Bucky could handle it, though, she was sure.

“Oh, no, I don’t think - I don’t think Bucky would…”

Darcy blinked. “That’s the first time since New Mexico I’ve heard you sound at all uncertain about something,” she said.

“You _like_ him,” she discovered with glee when Thor looked just slightly sheepish. “Oh, go on. If you do, you can’t possibly let him be stood up on Valentine’s Day. Step in, you gotta!”

To her surprise, he laughed and bent to place a kiss atop her head. “Little lightning sister, you push me into these things. Very well.”

Darcy watched, pleased, as Thor crossed the room to a dejected Bucky, putting his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and speaking to him. A slow smile dawned on Bucky’s face after a moment, and he nodded, putting his hand up to cover Thor’s.

“Job well done,” Darcy said, satisfied, and headed to the bar to get herself a drink.


	21. Deadpool/Colossus, 2 and 21, for taleasadubh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I haven’t seen the movie yet, but… here goes!_
> 
> _And you didn’t give me a number, so I’m having a look for one I haven’t done yet… how about… a mix of 2 and 21._
> 
> **_Surprise date (you thought I forgot but you were wrong! Surprise!) and Homemade date ‘cos we’re broke_ **

 

Piotr stepped into the apartment and stopped dead in his tracks. “Wade?” he called, suddenly panicked, because all he could see was fire. Blinking a couple of times, he realised that he was actually seeing lots of tiny little flames, from candles, lots and lots of candles. Tiny tea-light ones crowding almost every surface in the room.

“Wade,” he said again, more softly, moving carefully into the room. At least Wade hadn’t put candles on the floor, so he had somewhere to put his feet. In the middle of the floor, though, was a picnic blanket, neatly spread out, with all sorts of his favourite tasty foods on it.

“Surprise!” a voice said behind him, and Piotr turned with a smile.

“You did this, for me?”

“For us,” and Wade stepped into his arms, grinning. “An outside picnic would be just a little too ball-freezingly cold, but I thought we could have one here. Just the two of us. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”


	22. Remy/Maria, 6, for stereden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You’re the most annoying person I know but I think I’m in love with you anyway oh help**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Hehe. Well, this of course fits somewhere into the[La Belle Dame Sans Merci](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4322178/chapters/12194171) timeline :D_

“Remy,” Maria pinched the bridge of her nose lightly, “you cannot just wander around SHIELD headquarters unescorted.”

“Of course I can,” he shrugged airily, carried on stirring whatever it was he was cooking. It smelled deliciously distracting, rather like the man himself, now wearing only a pair of ragged old jeans hanging far too low on his lean hips.

It had been a long day and Maria didn’t want to be distracted right now. “No, Remy, you can’t! You’re not even on SHIELD’s payroll!”

“I think you word you are looking for is ‘may’,” he glanced over his shoulder at her with a smirk. “You are trying to tell me that I _may_ not wander around unescorted. Not that I _can_ not. Because you know very well that I _can_ go anywhere I wish.”

Maria ground her teeth. “Semantics, Remy!”

He shrugged and returned to stirring, all loose-limbed, golden-skinned grace. Maria licked her lips helplessly.

“You’re the most aggravating person I know,” she snapped.

“ _Ma belle_ , I am offended! You know Barton!” Turning from the stove, pan in hand, he moved over to the sink. “Come. Your dinner is ready, and I know you have had a hard day. Let Remy pamper you.”

Helpless against his charm, she sank into her chair and inhaled the wonderfully-scented vapour rising from the plate he set in front of her. “You drive me completely insane,” she said finally, picking up her fork.

Remy laughed softly at her as he seated himself too. “In more ways than one, _n’est ce pas_?”

 


	23. Peggy/Steve, 19, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Peggy and Steve - sorry I'm so late  (Was that too soon?)**
> 
> _ooooh… I think this might be too soon. But I will try to make it work. It’s all your fault if someone cries, nonnie. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it._
> 
> _Warning: sads ahead_

He went to see her every Sunday he possibly could. Sometimes he saw Sharon there, with or without some of her relatives, and they talked about what she was doing with the CIA and how the New Avengers Facility was going, but never about Peggy. Neither of them wanted to face the realities of Peggy’s deterioration, and talking about it to someone else would have made it too real for both of them.

As it turned out, that particular Sunday Steve and Sharon arrived at just about the same time. He smiled down at her and stepped back for her to precede him into the room.

“Those are nice,” Sharon nodded at the calla lilies in Steve’s hands. “Aunt Peg was never a roses kind of girl.”

Peggy was sitting up as they entered, gazing out of the window. As the door clicked shut behind them, she turned slowly to face them, her eyes lighting on Steve.

“Honestly, Steve, what time do you call this?” she said crisply. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I had to have lunch without you!”

He froze in utter horror. A quick glance at Sharon and she was looking at him with the same expression.

_Oh my God, it really is Valentine’s Day._

“I know, Peggy, I’m sorry I’m so late,” Steve broke the silence at last. “But I brought you these. They’ve a wonderful scent.” He held the flowers out towards her.

Peggy’s expression softened. “Oh, Steve. How lovely. Let me smell.” She inhaled deeply over the lilies. “You, girl, get a vase, please,” she said sharply to Sharon, who fled with a quick glance at Steve. “And you, dearest,” she looked back up at Steve, “come and sit here and tell me what scrape you got into that had you missing our lunch.”

 


	24. Bucky/Skye, 7, 16 + 18 for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Sharing popcorn/cuddling gets handsy/movie night with a friend turns romantic_ **

She stopped in surprise halfway into the common room before continuing on. “Bucky. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“Why not, doll?” he glanced up at her and grinned, before giving an exaggerated sigh and moving over so she could join him on the comfy couch.

“Because I thought of all people, James Buchanan Barnes the notorious ladies’ man would have a date on Valentine’s Day!”

He snorted and offered her some popcorn. “Yeah. Right.”

“What does that mean?” she pressed curiously, accepting a handful.

“Doll, I haven’t dated anyone in the last seventy years, as far as I know. I don’t think I’d even know _how_ to date, these days. So I figured I’d just Netflix and cool.”

“Netflix and chill,” Skye corrected with a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, still catching up on the vernacular, too.” Bucky gave her a wry sideways grin. “So come on, help me pick.”

She swiped the remote control and started scrolling. “Did you have anything in mind?” She already knew he didn’t like action movies or thrillers of any kind.

“Something funny and mindless,” he responded promptly. “A chick flick, preferably.”

“Not all chick flicks are mindless!” she poked him in the ribs, and he retaliated by tickling her until she shrieked. Of course, the popcorn ended up all over the couch, the floor and both of them.

But neither of them noticed, because Bucky had ended up lying atop Skye, his hands curving lightly around her wrists, eyes locked with hers as both of them breathed fast.

 _He’s so gorgeous…_ she couldn’t help but lick her lips, and Bucky groaned deep in his chest.

“Don’t do that, doll.”

“Do what?” she whispered through a throat tight with excitement.

“Look at me like that. ‘Cause I’ll forget we’re just meant to be friends and I’ll kiss you.”

They both stared at each other for a long moment more before Skye very deliberately licked her lips again.

 


	25. Lincoln/Darcy, 13, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Blind date._ **

 

“Stop chewing on your nails,” Daisy gently but firmly removed Lincoln’s hand from his mouth. “It’s gonna be fine. You’ll like her, she’ll like you, even if you don’t you only have to have dinner together and then you can go your separate ways. No harm, no foul.”

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, ducked his head sheepishly. “I dunno, Daisy. I’m not exactly every girl’s dream, and my life is all kinds of weird…”

“Lincoln, you’re tall, blond and handsome, and Darcy works with the Avengers. Weird is perfectly normal, for her. Now shush,” she smoothed the front of his suit jacket - and how she’d talked him into a suit, Lincoln wasn’t at all sure - and stepped back. “Enjoy yourself. That’s an order from your team leader.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he returned her smile with a small chuckle, and she nodded crisply.

“Right, well I’m off or I shall be late for my own date, and Steve will give me his Disappointed Look ™. Be good! On second thoughts, don’t, actually. Darcy would probably like it better if you’re at least a _little_ bad,” and she departed, laughing over her shoulder at him.

Grinning at her silliness, Lincoln fidgeted for a bit. Darcy was supposed to meet him here, in the Avengers’ private bar, at seven. It was just that now, but he supposed she’d probably keep him waiting a few minutes at least. He eased a finger into the shirt collar that suddenly seemed constrictingly tight, started to bite at his nails again. Debated grabbing a bottle of bourbon for a healthy swig.

 _No, Lincoln, no. Terrible idea_. He turned to look out of the window instead, shoving his hands back in his pockets again.

 _Well, the back view’s certainly nice_ , Darcy thought as she walked quietly up behind him. Tall, broad-shouldered, the way he was standing pulled his pants tight on a rather spectacular ass, too. _Hot damn_.

“Lincoln?” she said hesitantly. She’d talked to him a couple of times on the phone previously, had mentioned to Daisy once that she thought he had a nice voice. They’d even done a little bit of phone flirting before Daisy unceremoniously set them up for this date.

Lincoln jumped with a little yelp, hands coming out of his pockets, emitting blue sparks as he spun around before he clenched his fists shut to dissipate the power.

“Darcy! Sorry, sorry – oh my God you’re _gorgeous_.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” she said admiringly, taking him in with a head-to-toe stare, even as he did the same to her. “Remind me that I must buy Daisy a nice present to say thank you.”

“Me too,” Lincoln said, barely recovered enough to speak. “A _very_ nice present.” He offered his arm to Darcy and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, smiling up at him. “Let’s talk about what we should get her over dinner, hmm?”


	26. Darcy/Colossus, 16, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Cuddling gets handsy_ **

Darcy wasn’t all that keen on some of the X-Men. Since she’d been seconded to the mansion to work with them, she’d come to the conclusion that Cyclops was an uptight ass, Wolverine was just an ass, Gambit was a flirtatious ass… you get the picture. The girls were rather nicer, but they had their own little clique and Darcy was definitely the newcomer.

Piotr Rasputin, however, was an absolute delight. The big Russian always had a smile and a kind word for everyone, especially her, and Darcy had quickly discovered that his size made for even better hugs than Thor’s. Which was _really_ saying something.

So when she wandered into the living-room and found him alone there, sprawled out on the big sectional in front of the TV, she grinned with delight and danced over to sit on him.

Piotr laughed as Darcy rearranged him to her satisfaction and snuggled into his arms. She was lovely to hold, all softness and sweet-scented hair. He tried to breathe it in unobtrusively, not overtly sniffing her. Her scent always made his head spin. But, she seemed to have him firmly in the friend-zone, if a rather cuddly one. She was just a very tactile person, he suspected, and very few of his mutant colleagues were comfortable with that, for various reasons.

“Mm,” Darcy happily cuddled against Piotr’s chest and settled in to watch the TV with him. But he was watching something in French with English subtitles, and after a while her eyes tired of trying to read the text, at her lying-down angle. Wouldn’t worry him, she thought sleepily, knowing that his French was excellent. With a sigh she gave up on the TV and rolled over, tucking her head against his chest and breathing in the delicious warm-man scent of him.

Startled as Darcy turned over in his arms, Piotr froze momentarily. But her eyes were closed and she looked as though she was falling asleep, her cheek pillowed on his chest. Slowly, gently, he dared to stroke her hair, feeling the thick dark silkiness of it soft against his fingers.

Darcy sighed with pleasure as Piotr petted her hair. _He was so gorgeous_ , she thought vaguely, only half-awake. _Such a pity she wasn’t his type_. Her arm was squished a bit awkwardly between them, so she pulled it out and put it around him. It landed on his ass, so she gave it a little squeeze. “Mm,” she mumbled happily. “Firm.”

Piotr’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Darcy, are you squeezing my ass?”

“’S a lovely ass,” she mumbled. “Be an insult not to.” She gave a happy little wiggle – and froze. “Um, Piotr?”

He squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. _Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say._ “Yes, Darcy?”

“Is that a cruise missile in your pocket, or are you rather happy to see me?”

“Прости!” he muttered, “I’m sorry, Darcy…”

She wiggled back a little bit, looked up at his flushed face. “Piotr?”

“It’s just a, a, a, reaction.” He couldn’t think of the word. “Body. Body reaction. Beautiful girl, grab my ass, body react.” His English was rapidly deserting him in the face of her quizzical look.

“Is that so,” Darcy murmured, a cheeky grin spreading across her face. “What would happen if I grabbed with both hands?”

He made an inarticulate noise, his cock springing even further to attention. Darcy’s eyes, and her smile, widened further.

“ _Excellent_.”


	27. Tony/Hunter, 8, for riannablok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I am having fun with all these prompts, though the sheer number of them still in my inbox is more than a little intimidating! Three bloody days I had the asks open, and more than 70 prompts… so if you don’t see yours come up for a while, I promise I didn’t lose it, it’s just way down the list somewhere!_
> 
> _**Ridiculously over-the top proposal** _

Tony lifted his head as Hunter’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder. “Hey,” he mumbled.

“You’re sleeping on your desk again, luv,” Hunter said with a shake of his head. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here and cleaned up. We’re having a party tonight, or did you forget?”

Tony blinked up at him before flashing his famous smile. “Couldn’t forget, Hunter. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I fully intend to make a spectacle of myself as usual.”

Hunter only grinned and shook his head, leading Tony out and up to their penthouse.

A hot shower and a large cup of coffee soon had Tony back to his normal ebullient self. He picked out a smart suit for himself, attempted to talk Hunter into a suit and gave up.

“Your ass looks spectacular in those jeans anyway,” he admitted cheerfully, following a laughing Hunter into the elevator. “Definitely won’t be able to keep my hands to myself tonight.”

“Not that you ever intended to,” Hunter retorted.

“Nope,” Tony agreed cheerfully.

They were entwined and kissing hungrily when the elevator doors opened.

“Sure you didn’t mean to just stay on your own floor?” Clint catcalled.

Hunter gave Clint the finger without even pulling back. He was gratified to see that even Tony looked a little glazed when he finally let him up for air.

“Definitely not,” Hunter said, tugging Tony after him as they exited the elevator. Looking around, he saw that everyone else was there already, both their teams, all their friends. “Because I need you all to witness this.”

“Witness what?” Steve asked curiously.

“The fact that I really am so far in love with this dope as to do this.” Turning back to Tony, Hunter dropped to one knee.

“What are you… _no_ ,” Tony said in shock. “Wait, wait, I mean yes!”

“How about you just let me ask the question first?” Hunter said dryly as everyone started to laugh.


	28. Jemma/Pyro, 23, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Date Gone Wrong - rained out picnic, bank robbery, a mugging…?**
> 
> _So this takes place on their first actual proper ‘date’ after meeting in the[Soulmates AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/7113476)._

 

Jemma felt a little nervous as she answered the doorbell; the butterflies in her stomach only intensified as John smiled warmly down at her. He looked far too handsome for her peace of mind dressed in a dark leather jacket and pressed black jeans. She hastily stepped through the door and slammed it behind her, to avoid being tempted to grab him by the lapels and just drag him inside and off to her bedroom.

_I’m resisting, I’m being good…_

John’s smirk and wistful glance at the door told her that he had exactly the same thing on his mind as she did, but he said nothing apart from;

“You look beautiful, Jemma. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

A card and some flowers - a stunning arrangement of fire lilies - had arrived earlier. Jemma smiled up at him. “Thank you, and thank you for the flowers.”

“You liked them?” He looked so appealingly pleased that she really didn’t have the heart to tell him that the flowers had given her an appalling fit of hayfever and she’d had to call Daisy to come and take them away. Discussing her allergies could wait for another day.

“They were beautiful,” she said honestly, placing her hand on his offered arm.

John had told her he didn’t know the area well and asked her to pick a restaurant, so she chose a nice little Italian a couple of blocks away from her apartment and booked well in advance, asking for the table she liked.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that there would be candles on the tables for Valentine’s Day. Which all flared up suddenly as John walked in the door.

“Shite,” he muttered under his breath, clenched his fists. The candles all went out at the same time, sending the waiters scurrying around with lighters.

“John, you all right?” Jemma asked nervously.

“Yeah, will be - just, didn’t quite have control of my emotions,” he glanced down at her, smiled wryly. “It’s difficult to stay on an even keel around you, babe.”

They sat down and John promptly snuffed the relit candle on the table. “Let’s just leave this one out, thanks, mate,” he said to the waiter who hurried over.”Don’t need candlelight reflecting in my girl’s eyes to show me how beautiful she is.”

“That was very corny but I think I might have just melted,” Jemma confessed as the waiter retreated.

“I have my moments,” John’s grin was sparklingly wicked, and then he groaned in horror. “Christ, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“What?” Jemma blinked at John, who was sinking down in his seat, trying to look inconspicuous.

“The three guys who just walked in the door,” he hissed under his breath, “are _mafioso_ heavies. They’re here to collect from the restaurant owner, I’m guessing, but I wrote a very sharp journalistic piece about their boss and if they recognise me… oh _fuck_.” Leaping up from his chair, he jumped hastily in front of Jemma.

“Allerdyce,” one of the heavies growled. “Mr Maselli would like a _word_ with you, I believe.”

“How nice for him, here’s my business card,” John held out a white rectangle. “Tell him to give me a call.”

“Now.”

Jemma had a sudden terrifying feeling that if John left with them, she’d never see him again. “Guys, it’s Valentine’s Day,” she said in her most placating, charming tone. “It’s really not a good time.”

The Italian’s dark eyes widened as he looked her over, and then he gave her a very nasty smile. “I think you’d better come with us too, missy.” A meaty hand closed on her upper arm.

“You do not _touch_ her,” John said, his voice hard. “ _Ever_.”

“Unless you want her to be the one paying for your sins, Allerdyce, you better mind your tone,” and Jemma was jerked to her feet.

There were more than enough lit candles in the room for John to work with, and despite his momentary loss of control earlier, he’d had years of practice in his power. All three of the men stumbled back, screaming, beating at clothes that were suddenly, inexplicably aflame.

“Fire!” the waiter shrieked, and there was very nearly a stampede as everyone fled the building. John grabbed Jemma’s hand and dragged her out through the back, fleeing quickly through dark alleys until they got back to her apartment building, hastily rushing inside.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasped as they locked her apartment door behind them and collapsed against it. They looked at each other and both burst out into peals of laughter at the same moment.

“What a fucking _disaster_ of a first date,” John groaned when the laughter died down.

Jemma smiled up at him. “Oh, don’t beat yourself up about it. It could have been worse. After all, we ended up where I originally hoped we would.”

He blinked, and then slowly smiled. “Me too. But I was planning to feed you first.”

“I think I’ve got some soup and crackers in the kitchen. Failing that, there’s definitely ice cream in the freezer.”

“Do not mention Ice right now,” John chuckled, taking her hand in his, “he’s never gonna let me live this down!”


	29. Darcy/Pyro, 1 + 4, for greennonmonster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I have written Darcy/Pyro in a Soulmates AU, but I feel like this one is a new story of its own._

 

“Darcy, your secret admirer’s struck again,” Bruce called across the lab as she walked in.

“What?” she felt a faint flush rising to her cheeks as she hurried over to where Bruce and Jane were standing by her workstation. For the last few weeks, she’d been regularly getting the most amazing anonymous notes. Poems, essays to her beauty and her intelligence; all so far as she’d been able to tell, completely original. Just yesterday there’d been an ode to her skills at scientist-wrangling, of all things!

All the Tower residents thought it was absolutely hilarious. There was endless speculation, and she’d heard - from Tony, who couldn’t keep a secret even when his life depended on it - that there was even a betting pool. Whoever it was knew Darcy more than just in passing, that was clear. But she couldn’t figure out who it could possibly be.

“I still think it’s Logan,” Jane giggled as Darcy reached her and Bruce.

“Jarvis ruled him out from the handwriting,” Darcy reminded her. “Oh, my God…” as she rounded her desk and saw the roses.

There were dozens of them, red, orange and yellow, in a stunning teardrop-shaped arrangement. Although, as she walked around it…

“Does that look like a flame to you?”

Bruce and Jane both tilted their heads in comical synchronicity.

“You know, it kinda does,” Jane agreed.

Bruce followed her train of thought first. “You’re not thinking… Pyro?”

“I’m absolutely sure it’s not Johnny Storm,” Darcy said. “Not after I told him I’d punch him in the nuts if he called me ‘babe’ one more time.”

“And Pyro is a journalist,” Jane said in dawning realisation.

“Plus a little bird told me that he moonlights as a romance novel author,” Bruce added.

“He does?” Jane and Darcy both stared at him.

“Indeed, Dr Foster, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis confirmed for them. “A rather successful one, considering his last annual tax filing…”

Darcy found herself smiling a bit goofily. Pyro, the powerful reformed fire mutant, interested in _her_ \- it seemed so _unlikely_ , but then she’d been the recipient of more than one sideways glance from John in the past. Was he shy, she wondered? Well, he’d done all the running thus far. It was definitely her move.

“Can you put me through to him, Jarvis?” she picked up her phone, gesturing at Jane and Bruce to go away. They both stayed put, grinning at her. “Oh, fuck off,” she told them.

“Er, I think _you_ called _me_?” John’s voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Not you! Oh God,” she said in horror. “John, it’s Darcy. Darcy Lewis.”

He was silent, by which she ascertained that her guess was correct.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For the roses, and the letter, and the poems. I’ve been a bit dense but I finally figured out it was you.”

Still silence. She bit her lip and plucked up her courage.

“And I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything tonight, it might be a bit late to book in anywhere, but we could get some takeout or something…”

“Actually,” he said when she tailed off, “I’ve got a reservation at eight o’clock at _Le Bernardin_. If you like seafood.”

“I do!” Darcy squeaked with delight. “Oh, I’d love to eat there!”

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.” She heard the smile in his voice before he hung up.


	30. Gambit/Sam, 11, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The request actually went:**
> 
> **something dealing with beyonce's new song formation? twerking may be seen**
> 
> **_This has to be Gambit considering all the NOLA references, doesn’t it? How about ..._ **

“I see it, I want it, I stunt, yellow-bone it, I dream it, I work hard, grind ‘til I own it!” Sam’s hips gyrated as he danced around the kitchen, singing along loudly to the music booming from the speakers. He was completely and utterly unaware of his appreciative audience. At least, until the song ended with him chanting and hip-thrusting the last few words as he cut his sandwich, and the applause started.

Sam let out a high-pitched shriek worthy of Queen Bey herself, dropped the knife and nearly took off the end of his thumb.

There was a _really_ good-looking guy lounging casually against the doorframe, lazily applauding his performance. Long brown hair framed a chiselled jawline, a long black leather coat did really good things for spectacular shoulders on a tall, muscled frame.

Sam failed to breathe.

“Sounds like a man after Remy’s own heart, _cher_ ,” the stranger clasped a hand to his chest before sauntering forward, a sinuous, graceful stride. His accent was thickly Cajun. “I ain’t black, but NOLA, she de queen of de south, no question.”

“One out of two ain’t bad,” Sam managed to get out eventually. “You must be Gambit.” He’d heard the other day that the powerful mutant was coming in to meet with the Avengers. “I’m Sam Wilson.”

“De Falcon,” Remy’s eyelashes swept down across his cheek, obscenely long, as he moved close to Sam, close enough that Sam forgot how to breathe again. “Dey never told me you was so good-lookin’.”


	31. Hawksilver, 10, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_First Kiss_ **
> 
> _Takes place on the Helicarrier, in a no-Laura AU._

p>

“You fucking idiot kid,” Clint groaned, staring down at the bloodied body of the young speedster. “Why didn’t you get out of the way?” Hot tears stung his eyes, and he scrubbed them fiercely away. “Why did you waste yourself saving me?” _I’m just the old fool who was falling in love with you_ , he didn’t say aloud, leaning down instead to put his hand against Pietro’s cooling cheek.

Which wasn’t cooling at all. It felt ragingly hot, actually, feverish under Clint’s hand. Startled, he blinked and leaned down, feeling for a pulse with suddenly shaking fingers.

A hand reached up, long, supple fingers curling around his own as blue eyes blinked open. Pietro smiled up at him.

“Hello again, old man.”

“You,” Clint choked out. “If you say that…”

The grin widened. “So how are you going to stop me? Because you have to admit it, you really didn’t see that c…”

He never got the last word out as Clint kissed him fiercely.


	32. Jemma/Bruce, 4, for suchaglamorouslie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Love Letters_ **
> 
> **_I may have got slightly off track with this one. I started thinking that they exchange science! emails which grow to be a bit more, and then… yeah… oh well, hope you enjoy it anyway!_ **

He’d read her first doctoral thesis - online - when he was in Brazil, seeking desperately to figure out some way to reverse what had happened to him. Had debated reaching out and asking her assistance - until he looked her up and found out that she was only seventeen. A child prodigy. It would have been unconscionable to involve her in the nightmare that had become his life.

She didn’t cross his radar again until years later, in New York, when they were cleaning up after the invasion and SHIELD sent some scientists into talk to him. Most of them seemed far too interested in him for his peace of mind, rather than the Chitauri remnants they were supposed to be working on; until the delicate-looking woman with the brown ponytail and the lively eyes arrived.

“Dr Banner,” she said with a bright smile. “It’s so lovely to meet you. Jemma Simmons.”

“ _Dr_ Jemma Simmons?” He recognised the name at once, and when she acknowledged with a quizzical smile, confessed that he’d read her thesis.

“Which one?”

“You did more than one?” His eyes bugged out.

“Three, but two of them are SHIELD classified - I’ll email them to you.” Her nose wrinkled as she chuckled. “You’re probably one of the few scientists around I’d trust to understand the whole thing without further explanations.”

He’d felt flattered that she thought that much of his smarts. And when the emails arrived, he’d sat up late several nights running reading the attached documents, even doing a bit of further research to understand some of it.

When he heard that she was one of the casualties when SHIELD fell, he was utterly devastated. They’d been corresponding by email for months, building up a friendship that at times he felt was verging on the inappropriate, considering that she was seventeen years his junior.

But losing it felt like the worst thing that had happened to him since the first time he Hulked out. He _did_ Hulk out, beat the shit out of some Hydra idiots who came to try and take him in, and grieved for weeks, for a brilliant young woman he’d met only once but who had become something more than a friend through their long correspondence.

And then he met Helen Cho and realised that something he and Jemma had discussed in their messages could maybe be turned to something amazing. Going back over the notes again, he took them to Helen and together with Jemma’s theses, they puzzled out the breakthrough that led to the Cradle.

It was several months after Ultron when they finally had a facility - the first of several dozen around the world - up and running, ready to open to the public. Helen was quite happy to acquiesce to Bruce’s request that it be named the Dr Jemma Simmons Health Foundation.

So Bruce was somewhat stunned, on the night before the facility was due to open its doors, to hear a soft knock at his office door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened, and a small woman slipped inside, turning to smile at him. “Hello, Dr Banner.”

Her hair was shorter, waving to her chin, but he could never forget those brilliantly sparkling hazel eyes. He clutched at his chest as his heart began to hammer faster.

“Don’t Hulk out, please!” she begged, darting to his side as she saw the colour drain from his face.

He raised a shaking hand to her cheek, gazing incredulously at her. “You’re _alive_.”

“I had to go undercover for a while to protect some people I was working with. I hated having to break contact with you, hated it! But when I heard about the Foundation, I _had_ to come see you.”

“Don’t apologise, this is the best news I’ve had in… _forever_ ,” he said fervently, still staring at her face.

She smiled softly at him, and then, daringly, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back. “Sorry. That was - really inappropriate.”

Bruce gazed up at her for a few long moments before sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. “No… _this_ is really inappropriate.”

Jemma smiled and ran her hands deep into his fluffy curls, holding on tight. “How terrible,” she whispered, just before she brought their mouths together again.


	33. Steve/Jemma/Bucky,8, for suchaglamorouslie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Ridiculously over-the top proposal_ **

 

“It’s gotta be just right, Buck,” Steve said for the hundredth time, but Bucky didn’t argue with him, only said;

“It will be, punk,” and kept on working.

At last they stood back and surveyed their handiwork. The bottle of expensive French champagne on ice, the carefully prepared delicacies that were all Jemma’s favourites, the polished crystal and silverware on the snow-white tablecloth. They looked at each other.

“It’s perfect,” Steve said, “But you, jeez, Bucky, you’re a mess…”

“So are you, and she’s gonna be here in ten minutes!”

They both bolted for the shower, too panicked even to waste a moment teasing each other when they were all naked and wet. Bucky’s hair took longer to dry so Steve was ready first, dressed carefully in the dark grey suit and light blue shirt they’d carefully matched to his eyes. Bucky had a lighter grey suit and a slightly darker blue shirt. They checked each other quickly, Steve smoothing Bucky’s hair back, Bucky flicking a speck of lint from Steve’s shoulder.

“Pretty as a picture, punk,” Bucky grinned nervously at Steve. “She won’t be able to resist you.”

“Or you.” They both jumped and laughed nervously at a tap on the door.

“You let her in, I’ll light the candles,” Bucky said, and Steve nodded and hurried to the door.

He caught his breath at the sight of Jemma; she wore an old-fashioned dress, royal blue with a print of red roses on it, the hemline demurely below her pretty knees, a narrow belt showing off her tiny waist. She’d curled and styled her hair, her lips painted in a perfect pink bow.

To Steve, she looked as though she’d just stepped out of an old movie, a siren of the silver screen as she smiled up at him. He stooped to gingerly kiss her cheek, not wanting to risk mussing her before Bucky got to appreciate her perfection as well.

Bucky was too overawed to do more than kiss Jemma’s hand, though he paired it with a flirtatious grin and bedroom eyes that had goosebumps springing up on the nape of her neck.

They’d evidently gone to such an incredible amount of effort she didn’t have the heart to tell them that she’d have been just as delighted with a pizza, a beer and their company. They still both felt the need to reassure her that she wasn’t just an extra in their long-standing relationship, that she was the stable centre around which they both revolved, even though Jemma herself had long since been assured of that.

So she sat at the beautifully laid table, ate the delicacies they’d clearly prepared with their own hands, and lost herself in admiring the sheer perfection of both her soulmates in the romantic candlelight.

“You haven’t finished your champagne,” Bucky said abruptly. Jemma saw Steve nudge him and frowned curiously. Bucky was normally the one topping up her glass before she finished it, anyway.

“It’s very good champagne, but I’m enjoying this wonderful food more,” she said, and saw Bucky’s face tighten oddly. Shrugging, she picked up her glass and took another sip - and something _chinked_ against the crystal.

Jemma froze, the glass against her lips. Stared at first Steve, then Bucky. Slowly, she drained the glass, feeling something cold and hard against her lips.

 _This is such a cliché_ , she thought but would never say aloud, not considering the way Bucky’s skin was stretched taut across his cheekbones and Steve had gone white around the lips. _Surely, they can’t possibly think I would say no?_


	34. Clint/Jemma, 1, for astarinsomebodyelsessky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Takes place in the[Truth In A Bottle](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2481338/chapters/5505269) ‘verse!_ **

 

Jemma’s fingers clenched again around the phone in her pocket as she watched the news footage on the TV. Saw again, in slow motion, Clint falling from yet another building, caught by Iron Man just feet above the ground. Saw the ugly way his body snapped and twisted.

She’d got a text within seconds from FRIDAY assuring her that Clint was alive, but he was very clearly injured, perhaps badly. She’d texted Helen to ask for updates, but only got a message that he was in the Cradle.

It was Valentine’s Day, and none of the others had gone on their dates, all clustering around her, keeping her company. Steve and Bucky both trying to reassure her that Clint would be fine, but Jemma saw the look Natasha tried to hide and felt a little sick.

“Where is she?” a blessedly familiar voice demanded then, and she whirled around, her eyes widening.

He was there. He was _there_ , wearing only a scruffy old T-shirt and jogging pants, but whole and healthy, a bunch of white roses clasped in his hand.

“Hey, darlin’,” Clint said, seeing Jemma’s white-face, her red-rimmed eyes. “You won’t get rid of me that easily. Especially not on Valentine’s Day.” He held the roses out towards her.

It was a good thing he’d got thornless ones, he reflected a couple of minutes later, because they’d both have been scratched to hell when the force of her hug crushed the flowers to pulp in between them.


	35. Bucky/Jane, 16, for iamartemisday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Poor Artie, you’re deep in OTP hell with these two, aren’t you? She had a scream at me that I couldn’t end[this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5974869/chapters/13730638) there, so I said if she sent me another prompt that fit, I’d write the smutty bit :)** _
> 
> _**Consequently, this one is NSFW!** _

 

 

“Go on, get in the shower,” Bucky gave Jane a gentle push. “I’ll clear up these wet things and be right with you.”

She nodded, shivering, and stepped into the stall. The hot spray hit her and icy cold water suddenly started streaming down her back from her hair, making her realise just how cold she actually was.

“You lack common sense sometimes, Jane Foster,” she quietly mimicked her mother’s scolding tones as she reached for the shampoo and started to massage it into her scalp. “Just like your father!”

“I wish I’d known your father,” Bucky said behind her, and she jumped and screeched.

“Warn a girl, will you!”

He laughed quietly. “I deliberately made some noise, but I think your ears are full of water.” One of his hands slid into her hair, the human one; though he loved touching her hair, they’d discovered the hard way that it got caught very painfully between the joints if he touched it with his prosthetic.

Jane sighed and leaned back as Bucky’s strong hand massaged the shampoo into her scalp. The hot water made the air thick with steam and she was already feeling a lot warmer. He still waited a few moments for the metal of his arm to warm up before sliding it around her waist and pulling her back against him.

She hummed with pleasure as her head rested on his solid pectoral muscles. He manoeuvred them both right under the high-pressure spray, murmuring “Keep your eyes closed,” as he rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

It felt so good, she didn’t want to move. Let out a tiny grumpy noise when he made her, but he was only turning her around, turning her head to rest her cheek against his chest as he smoothed down her wet hair, reached for the soap and began to wash her back.

Bucky had once thought that Jane made the noises deliberately. But he’d long since concluded that she had absolutely no idea that she was doing it, and no idea what effect the little moans and gasps she made whenever he touched her had on him.

Well. She knew she was doing _something_ to him, anyway, as her beautiful dark eyes opened and she gave him a knowing look.

“Hmm, think there’s something _dirty_ that needs a wash here,” Jane murmured, and one tiny hand slid down Bucky’s rock-hard abs, curved around the root of his cock. Dainty fingertips ghosted over his balls and he groaned.

Jane smiled as Bucky turned to putty in her hands. It still amazed her how just one touch or word from her could turn him from the fierce, taciturn warrior to the lover intent only on her pleasure.

And _hoo boy_ was he ever good at giving her pleasure. He sank to his knees now, pulling her hand off him, glanced up at her with a wicked light dancing in his blue eyes.

“Back up against the wall, doll.”

She obeyed; the tiles were warm and wet with steam, slick against her back as Bucky slid a hand behind one knee and pulled her leg up and over his shoulder, opening her up for him.

“Huhhhh, yes,” Jane mumbled, her fingers clenching in Bucky’s wet dark hair. He grinned against her, nosing her clit lightly.

“Silly Jane, going out in the cold rain like that. You want to get wet, _I’ll_ get you wet.”

She gasped in surprise as both his hands suddenly clamped on her thighs and he lifted the other leg too. Back braced against the wall, she was basically sitting on his collarbone. He couldn’t possibly have gotten his face any deeper into her pussy - and he showed her exactly what he planned to do about that, tongue curling up inside her as his upper lip worried at her clit.

“Oh my god yes,” Jane whimpered. Bucky chuckled, tongue vibrating inside her making her want to scream even louder, but she bit on her tongue - for now. She’d learned the hard way that if she started screaming too soon she’d end up with a sore throat.

Bucky hummed low in his chest, and then his hands were moving too, gliding up over Jane’s stomach, the muscles of his biceps squeezing her thighs in so his head was held firmly between them as his fingers reached her nipples and began to squeeze and tug.

Sensation zinged along Jane's nerves making her feel as though there were fine electric wires connecting all her most intimate spots, Bucky's fingers, tongue and lips transmitting little shocks of sensation through her.Her earlier resolution not to scream was quickly forgotten, her wails of ecstasy echoing from the tiled walls as Bucky brought her expertly to orgasm.

He moaned as Jane's juices filled his mouth, lapped greedily at her as she tremored and moaned, her small fingers tugging at his hair. He didn't ease up, though, until he felt her hands relax, and then he let go of her breasts, shifted his shoulders until her thighs slid down off them, her knees hooked over his elbows - and then he rose gracefully, easily, to his feet and drove up into her with a single hard thrust.

Of all the things Jane loved about Bucky Barnes, the way he made love to her was right up close to the top of the list. He didn’t treat her like she was delicate, fragile; he respected her strength and he gave her exactly what she wanted.

Which was a thorough nailing to the shower wall.

Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders, her throaty cries mingling with his grunts and shouts of pleasure as he fucked her hard. Her shoulders slid on the wet tiles, but his hands on her ass held  her steady for his thrusts.

It went on for a blissful eternity for Jane; where an ordinary man might have flagged, Bucky’s superhuman strength and stamina meant he just kept on and on pounding into her until her second orgasm welled up through her whole body and poured out of her in a torrent of convulsing screams.

Bucky let out a triumphant roar of her name before stilling; his cock pulsing hard inside her, his mouth seeking hers for a searingly passionate kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered when he pulled back, his forehead pressed to hers, a loving smile on his lips.


	36. Daisy/Bucky/Tony, 14, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Wingman** _
> 
> _**Tony is the wingman but becomes the third.** _
> 
> _**Interesting! OK, let’s give it a go…** _

 

ng>

“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” Tony said in Bucky’s ear. Bucky didn’t jump. He’d been well aware of Stark walking up behind him. It had taken a while for him to trust the other man that close, but now he felt comfortable enough to nod in acknowledgement.

“Stunning,” he conceded quietly under his breath. Glanced at Tony. “You should make a move.”

“Me? Hell no,” Tony said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I’m too old for her.”

Bucky snorted. “You sure as hell didn’t feel old the other night.”

That made Tony grin, but he was already walking away towards the beautiful young woman who had come to the party with Coulson’s team.

“It’s Daisy, isn’t it,” he propped an elbow on the bar beside her and gave her his best, patented Stark charming smile.

“I think you know it is,” she responded, unable to help being charmed. His charisma really was magnetic.

“Unforgettable,” Tony murmured, losing himself in her eyes for a moment. “Um. Anyway! The reason I came over, you see Tall Dark and Brooding over there? Well, the thing is, he used to be a famous ladies’ man, but all that got frozen out of him by those Hydra bastards. So these days, he’s utterly hopeless at talking to chicks.”

Daisy grinned, looking across at where Bucky was standing by the window, hand shoved in his pockets. He was three-quarters turned away from them, but she had the very strong suspicion that he was watching their reflection in the glass.

“Don’t tell me Tony Stark is acting as wingman?” she said teasingly.

“Well, the boy needs help,” Tony couldn’t help a flirtatious smile. “I promise, he’d be worth your while. In the sack, at least.”

“Oh, you can provide first-hand testimony to that, can you?” Daisy arched a brow.

“Uhhh…” Tony froze up briefly.

“Because I have to say, the idea of that is _really_ fucking hot,” she leaned in and whispered it. “And while either of you sounds like an appealing proposition, if you were to make it both - well, that would be an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Tony gulped, eyes wide. “Yup. Both. Give me a sec to clue Elsa over there in on the plan and we’re all yours!”


	37. Skye/Daredevil, free choice, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_You didn’t give me a number, so I shall look for one that might suit… how about… 18?_ **
> 
> **_Movie night with a friend turns unexpectedly romantic_ **

“It’s so good to see you again,” Daisy sat down next to Matt on the couch. “But I have to admit I was a bit thrown when you asked me over to _watch a movie_.”

He laughed quietly, put an arm around her shoulders. “I did pick a musical.”

Smiling, she cuddled into him. They’d been friends long ago at St. Agnes, even though Matt was a couple of years older than she. He’d been the one who encouraged her to discard the ghastly Mary-Sue Poots the nuns had stuck her with, had suggested the name Skye. She’d missed him desperately when he finished school and went off to college, but they’d kept in touch via email in the years since. Discovering that he’d become the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as well as a lawyer had been something of a shock when she ran into him while hunting down a rogue Inhuman.

He’d helped her that day, though, and their friendship had been rekindled. Though Daisy sometimes found herself wishing for something more. She’d had a terrible childhood crush on Matt, and he’d grown up into a startlingly handsome man. Snuggling against him now, feeling the warmth of his body against hers as the _Les Miserables_ music started, she debated, again, making a move.

“Do you realise,” he whispered in her ear a few minutes later, “that I can hear your heartbeat? You’re not at all relaxed.”

She made a slightly strangled sound in her throat. “Um…”

“Daisy?” his fingers ghosted along her cheek. “Are you all right?”

She turned her head to look at him. He seemed to be looking right at her, and she knew that his enhanced senses could probably pick up all sorts of unconscious signals that she was giving off.

 _Oh my God,_ she realised. _He can probably scent my arousal…_

Which was a thought so disturbingly hot that she found it hard to breathe for a moment. Her pulse rate skyrocketed further, and Matt sucked in a sharp breath.

“ _Daisy_ ,” he said, in a tone of shocked discovery.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” she said miserably, trying to pull away, but his arm tightened around her shoulders. “I always had a crush on you when I was a kid - and seeing you again - well, it really hasn’t helped that you’ve grown up so good-looking!”

He shook his head slowly, smiling. “I wish I’d known. Because I’ve been in love with you since you were about nine.”

She gaped at him in pure, astonished shock, until he chuckled and pulled her closer, his mouth slanting down gently over hers.


	38. Steve/Daisy, 16, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Cuddling gets handsy_ **

Daisy was the most tactile person he’d ever known. And for Steve, who didn’t really have that sort of tactile relationship with anybody - well, her impromptu hugs were something that he treasured. Once he’d figured out that people rarely initiated hugs but she adored them, he developed a habit of making a bee-line for her and holding his arms out whenever he saw her.

Daisy always laughed and jumped up into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to hug on tightly. They would both just ignore the comments of anyone else in the room and hug on for a good minute or so.

So when she ambled into the rec room as he was collapsed on the couch with a box of Girl Scout cookies catching up on the Netflix Jarvis had queued up for him, he smiled with delight, shoved the cookies aside and held his arms out without bothering to get up.

Daisy laughed happily, darted across the room and jumped onto his lap, straddling his thighs, arms around his neck.

And Steve suddenly became aware that they were, actually, very much alone. And Daisy wasn’t wearing her usual practical, tough work clothes but a cute little skirt and button-down blouse.

And she smelled really, _really_ good.

His body reacted quite predictably to having a lapful of soft, sweet-smelling woman, and Steve froze, praying desperately that Daisy wouldn’t notice.

She noticed, of course, but she noticed the way his neck and back muscles went rigid, pulling back to look at him. Which had the unfortunate effect of tilting her hips just a _little_ further forward.

Whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips as she stared at him wide-eyed, at his face, blushing utterly scarlet, his eyes squeezed shut from embarrassment.

“Um. Steve?” she said finally, in a shocked little voice quite unlike her usual firm tones.

“Sorry?” he offered, eyes still closed tightly.

“Don’t be,” she said, and to his utter astonishment she leaned forward in his arms and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “I’m _very_ flattered.”


	39. RumSkye, 24, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_ **
> 
> **_An AU where Rumlow was one of Gonzales’ loyalists, and joins up with Phil Coulson’s team post-S2. He now runs STRIKE for Coulson and he and Daisy back each other up regularly out in the field. Lots of mutual respect already there._ **

“What are you doing here?” Daisy asked in surprise as she ambled into the rec room and found Rumlow there, sitting on a stool by the breakfast bar, moodily drawing wet patterns on the counter with the condensation from a beer bottle. “Thought you had a date with what’s-her-name from the design labs?”

He sighed and turned to face her, shrugging slightly. “Tanzia. She blew me off.”

“For another guy?” Daisy said, surprised. _Because hot damn, who would take another guy over Brock Rumlow?_ Staring at his shoulders as he moved had become her guilty pleasure over the last few months.

He grinned wryly. “No. My ego could probably take that. No, I’m afraid the lure of whatever her current gadget is in the labs outweighed my meagre charms, in her opinion.”

“Engineers are fuckin’ _mad_ ,” Daisy said after staring at him for a stunned moment. “I always suspected it, but what you just said confirmed it.”

Rumlow chuckled, gave her a more genuine smile as she collected a beer of her own from the fridge. “Your outrage on my behalf makes me feel a bit better, anyway.”

“I’m serious, she’s mad. Who would turn down a date with _you_? Nobody in their right mind.” She chinked her beer bottle against his and shook her head.

He was giving her the oddest look, so Daisy set her bottle down after a long sip and said “What?”

“Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Turn me down? I’d have asked a long time ago, only I thought you weren’t interested, I’m a lot older than you…”

“Not _interested_!” she almost squawked it. “Are _you_ mad?” She cast a frankly lecherous look over him, the way his T-shirt stretched tight over his thickly muscled torso, the coarse black stubble that had been featuring in her erotic dreams for _months_. His gold-brown eyes, glinting with interest as he watched her. “I’m _very_ interested.”


	40. Bucky/Daisy, 2, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Surprise date (you thought I forgot but you were wrong! Surprise!)** _

She was not going to cry, she told herself firmly. She _wasn’t_.

Not even with everyone giving her pitying looks.

 _I’m not fifteen any more. Valentine’s is just another day._ And Just Another Day with the Avengers means a mission and ass-kicking somewhere on the other side of the world. Bucky was _busy_. People needed him.

She still felt like that lonely teenager who hadn’t got a Valentine’s card from the boy she had a crush on.

Eventually she fled the sympathetic glances and headed to her room. Switching the light on, she slammed the door behind her, blinking back her tears.

And stared, her mouth dropping open.

Because her bed was covered in rose petals.

There was a tablet on her pillow; she grabbed for it, tapped the screen. It came on to show Bucky’s face.

“Hey, doll,” he said. She could see the side of the quinjet behind him; he must have recorded this on the way to the mission. “Bet you thought I forgot about Valentine’s Day, huh?”

She smiled through the tears she couldn’t quite stop.

“Well, when I get back, I’m gonna give you a valentine you ain’t gonna forget in a hurry, I promise you that. But right now, you should look under your pillow.”

Blinking, she reached for the pillow, pulled it back. There was a box there, long and slim, a familiar pale blue. Surprised, she opened it up and smiled with joy at the sight of the necklace and pendant within; a tiny white gold star set with diamonds glimmered on a white gold chain.

“Put it on, doll, and send me a picture,” Bucky’s voice requested from the tablet, “and I can look at it all the way back to you.”

She did as he asked, of course. And when he arrived back, he found her waiting on the bed of rose petals, wearing nothing but the necklace and a welcoming smile.


	41. Steve Rogers/Trish Walker, 24, for nurselaney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_ **

There was a woman at the bar, and she was quite simply the classiest, most beautiful dame Steve had ever seen. _Ever_. In his life. Tall, blonde, blue-eyed, wearing a dress that probably cost an arm and a couple of legs.

And she was crying quietly, tears trickling down her cheeks that she was trying to subtly blot away with a cocktail napkin.

Most women got red-eyed and blotchy when they cried, from what Steve knew, but this one just looked woebegone and, if possible, even more beautiful. The hardest heart would have melted, and nobody had ever accused Steve Rogers of being hard-hearted.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said quietly, stepping up beside her at the bar, “but I can’t help but notice you seem to be in some distress. Is there anything I could do to help you?”

Trish gasped as the quiet, low voice spoke at her side, pressed her napkin more fiercely against her eyes. “No - no thank you, I’m fine.”

Steve paused for a minute, and then he gestured to the barman and said, “A drink for the lady, please. Brandy?” he queried gently to Trish, who managed a grateful nod. “Your best brandy.”

A glass was set down in front of Trish a moment later and she picked it up and took a quick slug. The brandy was wonderful, aged and smooth, and seemed to warm her all the way down to her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she said quietly;

“Thank you, that was very kind.”

“Can’t bear to see a lady cry,” Steve shrugged a little uncomfortably. He was going to turn away, leave her, but some impulse made him say “Whoever he is, he don’t deserve you.”

She smiled into the brandy glass. “I shan’t argue. Dumping a girl on Valentine’s Day is pretty clear evidence that you’re correct.”

“What a…” Steve swallowed the words that came to mind. They weren’t fit for a lady’s ears. “Well, ma’am, if you felt like some company to cheer you up, I’d be honoured.”

“Aren’t you with someone?” For the first time, she turned to look at him. Her mouth dropped open as she recognised him.

“Just friends,” Steve glanced back at the table where Sam, Natasha and Wanda were all giving him encouraging thumbs-up. “You’d be welcome to join us, but…” he gave her a shy smile. “Just you and me would be my preference.”

She swallowed down her amazement that Steve Rogers was apparently hitting on her along with the last of her tears, and held her hand out.

“I’d like that too. My name’s Trish. Trish Walker.”


	42. Rumlow/Helen Cho, 6, for shiniestqueen (sparrowinsky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **_You’re the most annoying person I know but I think I’m in love with you anyway oh help_ **

 

**_An AU where Rumlow fought on Cap’s side during the events of TWS. He still wound up crushed under the Triskelion; they all assumed he was dead but he was pulled out horribly burned and barely alive by emergency crews. This is where Natasha was during that scene with Sam at Steve’s bedside; she and Maria were frantically making calls to try and save him. They call Bruce who rocks up with Helen._ **

**_This did its best to turn into something spectacularly massive while I was writing it (why am I not surprised, when it’s a shiniestqueen prompt) so I sort of cut it off before Rumlow made himself REALLY annoying, but I think you can see which way the wind is blowing :D_ **

“Can you help him?” Maria asked the fragile-looking Korean doctor. She wasn’t fooled by the outward appearance, though. You didn’t get three doctorates and the respect of Bruce Banner and Tony Stark by being anything less than tough as nails and a genius to boot.

Helen hummed under her breath. “Honestly? Touch and go. If we had the cradle finished and we were in Seoul, I definitely could, but… he’s so badly hurt.”

Her eyes traced over the ruined body of the man lying in the bed. Natasha and Maria had already told her that Rumlow had made a hero of himself, holding off opposition forces while Maria ran the necessary computer hacks, and then trying to get to Pierce’s office to help Natasha when she lay helpless. He hadn’t managed to escape the crashing building in time, though; it was pure luck he was still alive, but almost every inch of his skin was deeply burned. He’d been put into a medically induced coma to try and keep him from going into shock, but toxins were already flooding his system, killing him by degrees.

“I can try,” she said finally, and saw in Natasha’s grief-filled eyes that she’d found the right answer.

Helen and Bruce did everything in their power, and slowly - agonisingly slowly - Rumlow began to heal. They started with his torso and abdomen, moved on to his back, slowly regenerating deeply burned skin and damaged organs.

Finally, the day came when he was healed enough - though still by no means completely - that they felt it was safe to try and bring him out of the coma. Leaving him under too long was by no means wise.

He came awake fighting mad and desperate to get out of the hospital bed. Maria had anticipated that, and was there to lean on his chest and hold him down.

“Brock! It’s over. We won.”  _ We lost so much, too _ , she didn’t tell him, but that was a conversation for another time.

“Good. Where the fuck am I?” He raised a shaking hand, glared at it as though thoroughly offended that it wouldn’t do his bidding.

“Avengers Tower. You nearly died, Dr Banner has been helping you, along with Dr Cho and some amazing new technology she created.” Maria moved off him, beckoned Helen over. “Brock Rumlow, Dr Helen Cho.”

He gave her a glare too. “When can I get up?”

“Give yourself a break, Mr Rumlow,” Helen said acidly. “You’ve been in a coma for nearly a month. A third of your skin is still covered in second and third degree burns and we’re still growing your toes back. You can get up when I tell you and not before.”

He glared at her for another moment before cutting his eyes back to Maria. “Bossy madam, isn’t she?”

Maria couldn’t help her smile of relief at hearing his old sardonic tones back. “She’s your doctor, Rumlow, and you owe her your life. Behave.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He smiled before grunting with pain as the healing skin on his face cracked.

“Don’t,” Helen’s professionalism came to the fore. “Please, just relax, Mr Rumlow. Or I’ll have to put you back to sleep again.”

“Oh, don’t deprive me of your beautiful face,” he said, even though he had to pant it out between spasms of pain.

Maria laughed. “It’s good to see you back, Rumlow. Don’t give the good doctor too much trouble.”

“Yes,” Helen said acidly, swatting his hand away as he tried to lift it to explore his face, “don’t give me too much trouble.”

“How else will I get you to notice me?” he said jokingly. “Since it seems my good looks are ruined.”

“You’ll be as handsome as ever you were in another week or two,” Helen said absently, checking his chart. “I’m sure the girls will be falling all over themselves for you.” She walked away to check on her machinery without even a glance back, and Brock’s eyes followed her.

He always had enjoyed a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, there is a Crackship Short under plan for this pairing, before you even ask!


	43. Jemma/Bucky and Skye/Rumlow, 12, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Double date**
> 
> _Um… I’m not sure precisely what AU this is, but Jemma and Daisy share an apartment :D_

“So did he ask you out?” Daisy nudged Jemma as her friend came scurrying up, her face bright red. She’d just seen Bucky Barnes waylay Jemma in the corridor, and considering the way he’d been following her around like a puppy waiting for her to notice him for the last few weeks, Daisy was willing to bet he’d finally got up the courage to ask.

“He did! You kept telling me he would, how did you know?” Jemma sneaked a look over her shoulder. Bucky was still watching her, a slight grin on his face.

“Because I’m not as blind as a bat?” Daisy rolled her eyes, laughing quietly.

“Well the joke’s on you, because I panicked and said I couldn’t leave you on your own in the apartment.”

“No!” Daisy shrieked with horror. “You did _not_ demand that you get to bring me along as a third wheel on your date!”

“Calm down,” Jemma grinned at her. “Bucky says he’s got a friend.”

“Oh my God, this gets even worse; he’s bringing along his fugly buddy to fob me off on!”

But Jemma was giving her pathetic puppy eyes and Daisy groaned. There was no way she could say no to that look, and she knew it.

“When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“But that’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are we interrupting your plans?” Jemma arched a sarcastic eyebrow. Daisy _had_ no other plans, and she knew it.

“I hate you.”

Jemma just smirked. “So, what are you gonna wear?”

“A burlap sack, to discourage the fugly friend,” Daisy grumped.

Of course, Jemma coaxed her into something rather nicer, a cute little dress and heels very much like Jemma’s own outfit. Daisy then had to constantly reassure her that she looked just fine, do Jemma’s makeup since her hands were shaking too badly, and then hurry to open the door as a firm knock sounded on it.

“He’s early!” Jemma panicked, shoving her feet into her shoes.

“He’s right on time,” Daisy reassured, checking her watch. “Stop stressing.” Opening the door, she smiled up at Bucky, who gave her a perfunctory smile before looking past her. “Hi Bucky.”

“This is Brock,” he waved vaguely behind him before stepping past her towards Jemma. “Hey, doll.”

Jemma gave Bucky a shy smile and then a gasp of delight as he produced a bunch of flowers from behind his back and presented them to her. “Oh, Bucky, how sweet, they’re lovely!”

“Not one tenth as beautiful as you,” Bucky replied sincerely, gazing into her eyes. Oblivious to anything else going on around them, they just stood and stared at each other, smiling idiotically.

Daisy didn’t even notice. She’d pasted on a pleasant, if fake, smile to greet Bucky’s friend, only to be confronted by one of the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Black hair, razorblade cheekbones, dense black stubble and a ridiculously sensual mouth were bad enough, but paired with amber-gold eyes and a body which could have graced the cover of a fitness magazine, shown off to excellent advantage by his tight black T-shirt…

“Hi, you must be Daisy,” he said in a voice that should probably be declared illegal, a whisky rasp that scraped along her nerves and made her shiver.

“Lucifer,” she said.

“Excuse me?” Brock blinked.

“Because clearly you’re sent to tempt me. Get thee behind me, Satan.”

His mouth curled up in a sinfully tempting smile. “I think you’re the one who’s tempting _me_ with that offer.”

She blushed, realising what she’d said. Only now, of course, she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it… “Maybe later.”


	44. Clint /Helen, 10, for lark-cale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_First Kiss_ **
> 
> _Takes place at the Grand Opening Party for the New Avengers Facility, in a no-Laura AU._

He couldn’t stop watching her. She was grace personified, to him; not the deliberately seductive way Natasha moved, nor yet the crisp military efficiency of Maria Hill; just a smooth, steady grace that drew his eye as surely as a target on the archery range.

He was lurking, of course. He’d never be comfortable in crowds, not even when he knew everyone there well, and too many at the new facility were yet strangers to him. So he’d found a spot high up, perched atop a balcony railing with his back settled comfortably against the wall. Several people came by to talk to him but, since he was abstracted, failed to strike up more than a passing conversation and wandered away, leaving him in peace to watch Helen.

She didn’t look particularly comfortable, Clint thought, despite her graceful movements and serene expression. She didn’t seem to settle with any one group, migrating from one to the next, talking, glancing about occasionally.

 _Thor ain’t here,_ he thought a little spitefully, _for you to ogle his pretty face_. He knew the Asgardian was devoted to his Lady Jane and pretty much oblivious to Helen’s entire existence, but it did sting to be so completely invisible in Thor’s presence that Helen hadn’t so much as reacted to Clint’s lying on her medical table with his shirt off. Clint worked _hard_ on his body. His abs and biceps _deserved_ appreciation.

Sighing, he took a small sip of his beer, smiled at Rhodey who came up to say hi. Rhodey had a funny story to tell, as usual, a good one this time that had Clint laughing. When War Machine wandered away, though, he spotted Helen standing alone at the other end of the balcony, leaning on the railing.

He hesitated only a moment before hopping down and going over to stand by her. His boots clicked on the flooring, alerting her to his approach; she glanced up and smiled when she saw him.

“Enjoying the party?” Clint asked, leaning on the railing beside her and turning to look at her perfect, serene profile.

“It’s fun,” she said coolly.

“Pity Thor’s not here, huh?” _I’m such a masochist_.

“Yes, it’s a shame he had to go back to Asgard before the party. Hopefully we’ll see him again soon.”

Right at that moment Clint would have been quite happy to hear that the Bifrost was broken again. “Yeah,” he muttered moodily, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“What about you?” Helen startled him by turning to face him fully. “You don’t seem to be having a good time at all.”

“Of course I am!” he said defensively.

“Your girlfriend couldn’t make it?”

“I keep telling you, I don’t have a girlfriend!” His hands clenched on the balcony rail.

“Boyfriend?” Helen queried.

“No!” Startled, he looked down at her. “No, I’m straight.”

“Then why the hell are you single?” Helen shook her head incredulously. “Clint, I’m sure there’s a million girls who’d love the chance to date you. You’re a hero.” The way his shoulders strained at the seams of his T-shirt had been distracting her all evening. Never mind the thick bulge of his biceps. _Do not stare at his biceps, Helen, you’re objectifying him again…_

She used Thor as a distraction, frankly, because the demigod was thoroughly unavailable. But it was Clint who haunted her, the way his eyes would glint up at her mischievously even when he was lying on a hospital bed wounded and in pain, the way she could tell from the timbre of his husky voice just how much he was hurting.

“Yeah, well, the girl I like don’t look at me like that,” Clint muttered, shrugging. Helen’s eyes followed the movement of his shoulders helplessly.

“Then she must be blind,” she said frankly, “because you’re gorgeous.”

Startled, Clint blinked down at her. “What?”

“I mean, look at you! You’re the most gorgeous specimen of manhood I’ve ever seen - and no, Steve and Thor don’t count, Thor’s not human and Steve’s enhanced. Not only that, but you’re kind, you’re compassionate, you put your life on the line every day to protect people you don’t even know. What girl _wouldn’t_ be interested?”

He hardly dared to breathe. “A brilliant lady scientist with three advanced degrees. She’s way too smart for a dumb grunt like me.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Helen gave a most unladylike snort. “You fly that jet, and there’s no way you make the shots you do without doing some incredibly complex mathematical equations _on the fly_. Plus I know very well you’ve a better grasp of battle tactics even than Steve, I’ve heard him say so. You’re plenty smart enough for anyone.”

He just stood there looking at her.

Helen finally realised what he’d said. “Wait. You don’t mean - _me_?”

“ _Of course_ I mean you.” He dared to reach out, put his hand very lightly over hers. “You talk about _my_ kindness and compassion, _my_ caring? It can’t even compare to yours.”

She saw the truth in his eyes, and incredible though it seemed that Clint, that an _Avenger_ , might truly be interested in _her_ , she had to believe. With a delighted laugh, Helen stepped forward and reached up to put her arms around his neck. Running her fingers into his short hair, she tugged lightly to bring his face down to hers, even as his strong hands came up to gently settle on her waist.

“So let’s be kind to each other, then,” she said with a soft smile, and kissed him.


	45. WinterWaitress, 2, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Surprise date (you thought I forgot but you were wrong! Surprise!)**
> 
> _Bucky doesn’t actually appear in this, but as you’ll see, he doesn’t need to :D_

Having to work on Valentine’s Day _sucked_. Beth delivered coffee and sandwiches to yet another happy couple, fished her order pad from the pocket of her apron and forced a smile as she turned to the next table. She was on the early shift as well, six to twelve, and the morning had been non-stop with breakfast dates, coffee dates, and now lunch dates. Her feet hurt, her back hurt, it was windy and cold so her hair was a mess and her nose kept trying to drip.

And none of that would have mattered if Bucky had just remembered it was Valentine’s Day.

They hadn’t made any plans. Stupidly, she’d somehow hoped that he’d just know, that he’d do something romantic and wonderful, but… the morning had dragged by without anything. And she knew the Avengers weren’t out on mission. Steve and Sam had both passed by earlier on the way home from their morning run, waving to her.

Beth sighed and took her new order to the kitchen, taking a quick moment to surreptitiously check her phone. Nothing. She grabbed a tissue, blew her nose and discreetly wiped her eyes at the same time. Washing her hands, she smiled with relief to see the waitress who’d take over her tables arrive.

“Hey Beth!” Sorcha started busily washing her hands. “Got a cold? Well, you can clock off now, go home and warm up!”

“I’m plenty warm,” Beth admitted, “it’s been hella busy.” The soles of her feet were burning. She almost groaned aloud at the thought of being able to take her shoes off, but she still had a bus ride home first. She supposed she could go up to Bucky’s apartment, but he might not even be there, and in her current mood she’d probably say something snappy and unfortunate. No. Best to just go home. Washing her own hands, she took her dirty apron off and dumped it in the laundry hamper, collected her bag from the counter cupboard and waved goodbye.

Leaving the cafe, she started walking towards her bus stop when a limo pulled up alongside her and a blacked-out window rolled down.

“Get in,” Natasha’s voice said coolly.

It didn’t even occur to Beth to disobey, as Happy came around to open the door for her.

“What’s going on?” Beth asked, as she got into the car. Natasha smiled across at her and handed over a glass of champagne.

“Bucky knew you were working this morning, didn’t want to add to your busy day by turning up and making a pain of himself, so - now your shift is over, here I am.” Natasha’s smile widened. “Your fairy godmother.”

That made Beth laugh. “Don’t you always say ‘love is for children’?”

“Yes, and you children would make a terrible mess of it without me here to manage things,” Natasha sniffed and tossed her red curls. “Anyway. Here’s the plan. I’m taking you to an amazing spa Pepper recommended, and you - and I, since Bucky is paying - are going to have every treatment we fancy. Then I’m going to take you shopping for a fabulous outfit and deliver you, transformed like Cinderella from tired footsore waitress into glamorous princess, to Bucky for the dinner date he’s arranged for you.”

“And before you ask,” she added, “this was all Bucky’s idea. He wants to spoil you, I think. He just recruited me to play fairy godmother.”

Beth needed another tissue. Natasha handed one over and waited without comment for her to dry the tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.


	46. Jane/Bucky, 24, for notreadytosettle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_

 

 “Thor don’t treat her right,” Bucky muttered angrily, looking at the dejected woman sitting on her own in the corner of the room. “Fuckin’ runnin’ about with his Warriors Three and his buddy Lady Sif. If she was  _my_ girl I’d fuckin’ move heaven and earth to be with her on Valentine’s.”

“You do know that he’s supposed to marry Sif, right?” Darcy said dryly. “And I’m pretty sure that he’s gonna give in and do it. Now that he’s the only heir to the Asgardian throne and they can’t interbreed with humans. Janey’s gonna get her heart broken, big time.”

_And I’m just hoping that tall dark and broody here will be around to pick up the pieces…_

_…oops…_

_… I think I may have just pushed a few too many of his buttons._

Bucky had stormed angrily across the room to where Jane was sitting, gazing wistfully out of the window.

Of course when he got there the words flew right out of his head and he felt like a big dumb grunt. As always when he was confronted with the tiny, brilliant, beautiful astrophysicist.

“Hey, Bucky,” Jane said, mustering a small smile for him.

“Thor’s a fuckin’ numb nuts,” Bucky sputtered out. Startled, Jane blinked at him.

“What?”

“If you were  _my_ girl ain’t  _nothin’_ would keep me away from you. ‘Specially not on Valentine’s.”

She laughed and ducked her head bashfully, smiling. “Oh, Bucky. That’s the sweetest thing to say.”

“Ain’t nuthin’ but the truth.”

Surprised by the fierce sincerity in his tone, she blinked up at him. “It…is?”

“Damn right.” He gathered all his courage. “If Thor’s too dumb to realise what a treasure you are, I’m cuttin’ in. I know it’s late notice, but would you like to come out to dinner with me, and maybe some dancin’ after?” _And marriage and a few brilliant babies and the rest of my life…_

Jane blinked again as Bucky held out his hand to her and she realised it was shaking very slightly.

“I suppose it would be a shame to let that reservation go to waste,” she said with a shy smile. “I’d love to, Bucky.”


	47. Darcy/Deadpool, 3, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Whoops I actually forgot_ **
> 
> _I don’t write DC characters at all, so it’s Darcy/Deadpool all the way! And having seen the movie yesterday he’s very, very fresh in my mind :P_

Darcy was grinding her teeth.

It wasn’t like they’d actually arranged anything. But every night, Wade came home by seven, no matter what was happening in either of their crazy lives, and they had dinner together. She’d mentioned to him yesterday that she’d bought some of his favourites for dinner tonight and he’d grinned like a loon.

And now it was twenty past seven, he wasn’t answering his phone, and she was sitting alone staring at dinner and debating just shovelling it all into a bag and taking it round to Clint’s to feed to Lucky.

“Hey, babe!” The door swung open and Wade bounced in, peeling off his mask and gloves and grinning down at her. “Oh, wow, that smells amazing,” he plopped down into his chair, grabbed a fork and shovelled a couple of bites into his mouth. “Umm umm,” he said, mouth full.

Darcy stared at him. He smiled at her around the mouthful, noticed the bottle of champagne and the two glasses on the table, and swallowed.

“Special occasion?”

Darcy’s stare changed to a glare. “What date is it, Wade?”

“Good question!” He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen. “February fourteenth!”

The glare intensified.

“Waaaaiiit a minute…”

“Valentine’s Day, Wade. It’s _Valentine’s Day_.”

“Be right back!” He didn’t even bother with his mask and gloves. Just opened the window and jumped straight out.

He jumped back in again about five minute later, a very large bunch of flowers clutched in one hand. Darcy couldn’t help but smile as he thrust them at her, a slightly panicky expression on his face.

“Don’t think for one moment this lets you off the hook for forgetting,” she warned.

“I shall be suitably penitent, mistress.” Wade’s mouth curled up into a sly grin and he slid to his knees in front of Darcy. “Please… punish me.”


	48. Darcy/Bucky/Loki, 14, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Wingman_  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> _Obviously, Loki’s returned to Earth to work with the Avengers and is now on the side of the ‘good guys’._

 

“Did you ask Thor?” Bucky hissed at Darcy as she returned to sit by him.

“I did, and he seemed a bit bemused by the question. From what he said, I gather Asgardians are pretty much bisexual - or should that be pansexual?” Darcy mused. “Omnisexual? I mean, as far as they’re concerned, _we’re_ aliens. Xenosexual?”

“That sounds _deeply_ weird,” Bucky gave her a doubtful look.

“Yeah, okay, well anyway, Thor basically said that if there are suitable orifices, appendages, attraction and informed consent from all parties, anything goes. Asgard sounds pretty enlightened in that way, to be honest.”

“I… have the terrible feeling that Thor’s just gone to tell Loki what you asked,” Bucky said in a doom-laden voice.

They both looked at the two tall demigods talking to each other on the other side of the room. Thor gave Loki a friendly clap on the shoulder before returning to Jane’s side. Loki turned, seeking them with his eyes. Seeing them both looking at him, he tilted his head curiously before a slow, wicked smile curved his mouth upwards.

“... I think we’re in deep trouble,” Darcy said.

“Just remember, this was all your idea,” Bucky hissed back as Loki began to make his way over to them.


	49. Loki/Nebula, 10, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Wow, that really is a hellish OTP you’ve got there, huh? Since I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who’s ever written it and quite likely the only one who ever will._
> 
> _Oh well, here’s another possible way they could meet, anyway…_

The first time they met, she was sent to assassinate him. The poison known to be fatal to Asgardians went into his cup without him even noticing, he drank it, and Nebula departed, secure in the comfortable knowledge that he’d be dead by morning and she would be far, far away.

Three weeks later, when news of Prince Loki’s death still hadn’t leaked out, she got in touch with some Asgardian contacts.

“Loki? No, perfectly fine as far as I know, he gave a speech at a new infants’ school just yesterday,” her contact said with surprise.

 _That would be why my bounty hasn’t been paid, then_ … thoroughly annoyed, she booked passage back to Asgard again.

“Lady Nebula,” she was greeted with all due ceremony as a representative of a foreign power, and placed in the same comfortable suite as her previous visit.

She was rather startled when the doors swung open and Loki himself walked in.

“Your Highness,” she swept him a politely correct bow. He folded his arms and looked at her thoughtfully.

“I’m wondering why you tried to kill me.”

Caught, there was nothing she could do but whip out her knives and run at him, determined to at least finish the job she’d started.

“It’s just business!” Nebula snapped as she buried the blade in Loki’s throat - and fell straight through the illusion, crashing to the floor.

A soft laugh sounded behind her as she fell, and she twisted, trying to get back up, but invisible bonds wrapped swiftly around her, icy cold to the touch, immobilising her limbs.

“Well,” Loki purred seductively, stooping down to look at the prone form of the lethal little assassin who’d just tried for the second time to kill him, “maybe I can make you a better offer?”


	50. Skye/Clint, 8, for vigilantewives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ridiculously over-the top proposal_
> 
>  
> 
> _This fits in as a sort of second proposal scene for @lark-cale’s[I Can Jump... No!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3438947/chapters/7538357), which was a continuation of the original Crackship Short. If you like Skye/Clint and you didn’t read it yet, go read it NOW._

Clint and Barney were Up To Something. They kept whispering in corners and disappearing with Lucky. Skye had been too distracted and busy to notice at first, but after a few days she realised that they never seemed to be around when she was looking for them. Clint looked innocent (but felt guilty through their bond) when she asked, so she cornered Barney.

“Um,” Barney was definitely not as good a liar as Clint, so when he said nothing she just raised an eyebrow and waited silently. “It’s a surprise. For you. For Valentine’s Day,” he capitulated in the end. “Please don’t make me ruin it.”

He gave her a pathetic look and Skye laughed. “All right. But only because Valentine’s is in two days, or you might be in trouble, buster.”

Stark was throwing a big party for Valentine’s Day - any excuse for a party, Skye thought with amusement - so she guessed whatever ‘surprise’ the boys had been up to was intended for that. Clint came up with some gorgeous flowers and chocolates in the early morning anyway, so she was hardly deprived for romance.

The party was in full swing, everyone having a roaring good time, when a piercing whistle suddenly cut through the noise. Everyone quieted and turned to look for the source.

Barney stood at the open elevator doors, Lucky at his side. He nodded to Clint, who was perched behind Skye on the back of the couch, before letting go of Lucky’s collar.

Lucky came trotting straight through the crowd to Skye, head held high, something in his mouth, ignoring the hands that reached out to pet him. As he got closer Skye realised he was carrying one of Clint’s arrows. Reaching her, he sat down on his haunches and laid the arrow in her lap.

“Good boy, good boy,” Skye chuckled softly, giving Lucky a pat. The labrador woofed softly with pleasure at the praise, nudging at her hand.

“There’s something on the arrow,” Jemma, sitting beside Skye, leaned forward to look.

“So there is,” Skye said softly, catching the gleam of bright metal. She glanced back at Clint, who leaned forward and said softly,

“The head of the arrow unscrews.”

She smiled, and picked up the arrow. Carefully unscrewed the head and handed it back to Clint, who pocketed it, and tipped the shaft up.

A circle of vibranium fell into her palm, little diamonds set flush into the surface all around the edge. It was perfect for Skye; it wouldn’t catch on anything when she worked, and the vibranium was impervious to the vibrations she sent out through her hands. It was worth a king’s ransom, not that Tony had cared when Clint told him what he needed.

Clint swung agilely off the back off the couch and went to kneel at Skye’s feet - though he had to nudge Lucky out of the way to do it. Taking the ring from Skye’s hand, uncaring that all eyes were on them, he asked for the second time;

“Will you marry me?”


	51. Skye/Deadpool, 15, for vigilantewives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Serenade_
> 
> _This fits into[The Gambler](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2886467/chapters/6442298) ‘verse. Because that whole story makes me so happy :) And because considering how they met, OF COURSE Jemma and Remy’s engagement party would feature karaoke!_

“Oh God, May’s heading for the stage,” Skye said in a panic as Jemma stepped down into Remy’s arms, to riotous applause.

“This is a bad thing?” Wade said curiously.

“She is the worst singer you have ever heard,” Skye told him flatly, and Wade leapt up instantly.

“Though I’m incredulous to think that there’s something Melinda May isn’t good at, I absolutely believe you.” He darted through the crowd, leapt up on the stage and grabbed the mike.

“Did it occur to you to ask if _Wade_ could sing?” Fitz leaned over to ask Skye curiously. “Or do you already know?”

She winced, realising she didn’t. “Um. Surely he couldn’t be worse than May?” she offered hopefully.

“True, but that still leaves a lot of room for _really fucking terrible_.”

“Oh, oh, I have a bad feeling about this,” Skye muttered under her breath as she saw Wade grabbing Hunter and Mack, recruiting them for backing singers. “I don’t suppose you happen to have any earplugs?”

“Nope, you’re just gonna have to grin and bear it!” Fitz chuckled.

A moment later they were both staring, gobsmacked, as Wade started singing along in an absolutely glorious voice, powerful and on pitch, smooth as honey. Gazing straight at Skye as he sang.

_“I can't stop this feelin', deep inside of me_

_Girl, you just don't realize, what you do to me_

_When ya hold me in your arms, so tight_

_You let me know, everything's all right_

_I, I'm hooked on a feelin'_

_I'm high on believin', that you're in love with me”*_

“I think I melted,” Skye said weakly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*Hooked On A Feeling](http://www.metrolyrics.com/hooked-on-a-feeling-lyrics-bj-thomas.html)


	52. Remy/Darcy, 20, for dresupi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This is the wrong restaurant I just realised but holy shit this guy/girl is so much hotter than my actual date…_

“I _think_ this is the place,” Darcy said a little doubtfully.

Jane and Thor both gave her Looks.

“What? The name was French and unpronounceable! If Thor had been listening instead of laughing at undergrads trying to pick up Mew-Mew, he’d know what the name meant and we’d know how to find it!”

Jane had given a (very well-received) lecture at Tulane University just that morning. One of the faculty had invited them to meet him for dinner at a restaurant. He’d been talking to Darcy’s breasts at the time, so she had her doubts about which ‘ _y’all_ ’ exactly he’d been referring to, but what the hell. He claimed the place did good crawfish and that sounded good to her.

“Do you want to call Professor Laing to check?” Jane asked.

“I don’t have his number.”

“Oh. Well… neither do I.”

They stood looking at each other in indecision for a moment before Thor shrugged and said;

“There is a most pleasant aroma exuding from this place, and my stomach begins to hunger. Let us eat anyway. We do not need the professor’s company for a most convivial evening!”

Jane laughed at that. “Indeed we don’t.” She linked her arm through Darcy’s and they followed Thor into the restaurant.

It did indeed smell absolutely fantastic; Darcy’s nose twitched and, to her embarrassment, her stomach let out a loud growl.

A man standing beside her let out a low laugh, turning to look down at her. “ _Où est le chien, petite?_ ”

She had no idea what he meant, but _whoa_ was he ever good-looking. Tall, solidly built, long brown hair framing a perfectly chiselled face.

“We have no dog,” Thor boomed, turning around, before stepping back in startlement. “LeBeau!”

“Odinson!” A broad smiled spread across the man’s face, transforming him in Darcy’s dazzled eyes from _oh no he’s hot_ to _fuck me that’s absolutely spectacular_. He stepped forward, reaching out to shake Thor’s hand. “I didn’t know you were going to be in town!” His eyes - and they were most odd, black with a glittering fiery core to them - stayed on Darcy, though. “And is this your Doctor Foster?”

“No, this is my Lady Jane,” Jane had been hidden behind Thor’s bulk; he put an arm around her now and guided her forward, smiling proudly. “Jane, this is Remy LeBeau. Also known as Gambit.”

“ _C’est un honneur_ ,” Remy bowed gallantly over Jane’s hand before glancing back at Darcy. “And _la petite belle_?”

“Darcy Lewis, my assistant - and _our friend_ ,” Jane said in warning tones.

“ _Enchanté_ ,” Remy bowed over Darcy’s hand too - and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it before straightening up, and _not letting go_. “May I invite you all to join me for dinner?”


	53. Tony/Skye, 6, for labratswhore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You’re the most annoying person I know but I think I’m in love with you anyway oh help_

“Um, Daisy?” there was a nervous tapping at the door of her room. With a sigh, she hauled herself off the bed she’d just sat down on. It had been a long, long day and she hadn’t started peeling her tactical gear off yet.

She opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking computer tech, wringing his hands.

“Oh, _no_.”

“He’s trying to get in again, he’s gonna hit the last firewall in a few minutes, _help_ ,” the tech babbled, and she swore and set off at a run.

It took her a good twenty minutes to repel Stark’s attack. She knew it was Stark. It had to be. Vision had slipped into SHIELD’s systems without them even noticing a while back, and left her a politely apologetic little note in her systems saying he didn’t plan to repeat the intrusion. Stark, however, wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Go away, go away,” she muttered under her breath, typing frantically. “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

“Well that’s just rude,” and offended voice said from the speaker, and she cursed under her breath as she realised he’d managed to hack the sound, at least.

“What do you call deliberately trying to break into a secured system, then?” she snapped back.

“Curiosity.”

“You know what that killed,” she sniped instantly.

Tony laughed. “You’re very intriguing, whoever you are. Call you in specially to deal with me, did they? Whoever was minding the store before couldn’t fight off a nine-year-old.”

“Nine year olds can be surprisingly dangerous.”

“You’re telling me. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She almost told him her real name, but some impulse made her say “Skye.”

“I came across a very talented hacker using that handle once before,” the interest in Tony’s tone deepened, and she heard keys tapping in the background. “She was with the Rising Tide; I heard she got picked up by SHIELD.”

“Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t,” Daisy grinned. “Where did you come across her?”

“She tried to hack JARVIS once.”

“Oh God, I did too,” she remembered suddenly. It had been a drunken bet with Miles. Very, _very_ drunken. “I’m so sorry, I was drunk…”

“What _really_ impressed me was that you nearly made it,” Tony said seriously. “I’d like to meet you, Skye. Or whatever your real name is.”

“No,” she said, thinking, _Coulson will kill me._

“How about a bet on that?” Tony bargained. “If I can find out your real name before you can hack FRIDAY, my new AI, you’ll come on a date with me.”

“No,” but she could feel herself weakening.

“But if you hack FRIDAY first, I’ll give you a copy of my base AI code.”

Too much temptation. They both knew it. Tony Stark was still the only person who’d built truly self-adapting, learning AIs, and while Daisy thought it was a Pandora’s box - just consider Ultron! - having access to that base code was a prize beyond price.

“You’re on.”

“Excellent. Shall I pick you up, then? Friday, eight o’clock?”

“Excuse me?” she said indignantly.

“Because I’m very much looking forward to meeting you - Daisy Johnson.”

“You _bastard_!” but she couldn’t help laughing. And finding herself rather looking forward to the date. “How did you do it? I know you didn’t break the firewall.”

“Asked Vision,” Tony was laughing too, at the other end of the line. “He’s looking forward to meeting you too.”


	54. CaptainWinterQuake, 8, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Ridiculously over-the top proposal** _

Steve had a bad feeling going into the interview. Tony and Pepper had both warned him - separately - that Christine Everhart was a shark with a grudge and she would be out for blood. He’d tried to talk Bucky out of it, but Daisy and Bucky had both disagreed with him; after the court case against Bucky had finally been thrown out, the world needed to see the real Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. And how better than an interview on live TV?

“I’m pretty sure that Everhart has a fairly strong sense of self-preservation,” Daisy whispered to Steve, as they stood behind the cameras, waiting for the interview to start. “She’s not going to say anything that might make Bucky snap. He doesn’t snap easily these days anyway.”

Steve hummed in quiet agreement, looking around. At least there was no live audience for this, even though it was being transmitted live. Just techs moving about the studio, checking cameras and microphones.

Everhart came out a few moments later, icily beautiful and professional in an immaculate grey skirt suit and white silk blouse. Seating herself, she allowed the techs to fiddle with her microphone before looking to camera and going into her opening spiel introducing her interviewee.

Bucky had flatly refused to wear a suit - had in fact wanted to turn up in his combat gear - but Natasha and Daisy had talked him out of it, and eventually convinced him into a pair of tan dress pants and a crisp blue cotton shirt.

“No black,” Pepper had said firmly, “that’s what Bad Guys wear, in the eyes of the public. Combat is one thing, but casual is something else.”

He did look gorgeous in the light-coloured casual clothes, his dark hair slicked smoothly back. Daisy sighed, her hand clenching lightly on Steve’s, as Everhart set off into a patter of light questions obviously designed to put Bucky at ease, to relax him.

Soften him up for the blow.

Which, when it came, was not the questions about his assassin past they were expecting.

“Your ‘best friend’, Captain Rogers, has been outspoken in his support of gay marriage,” Christine said. The emphasis she put on the words _best friend_ had them all stiffening with alert.

“So have you,” Bucky responded instantly, and Christine gave him a genuine smile, obviously appreciative that he’d done his homework on her. The smile faded as she obviously started to wonder if he’d done it because she was a possible assassination target.

“You’re quite correct. However, it hasn’t until now been common knowledge that Captain America had a more _personal_ reason for his stance.”

An image flashed up on the big screen beside Christine. Steve and Bucky, embracing in the rubble of a ruined building. It had been taken just a few days earlier.

Bucky’s face was very still. “It was never common knowledge,” he said at last, “but Steve and I are soulmates.”

Christine quite obviously reeled. “ _What?_ ”

“I lost his words along with my arm,” Bucky gestured at the metal hand emerging from his shirt cuff. “Which was probably a good thing, because if Hydra had known he was my soulmate, well, I think things would have turned out a lot worse for us. The memory-wiping procedures I was put through made me forget him. Steve never forgot me, though. He never gave up on me. I just didn’t remember him until I got lucky enough to find our third.”

“You have a _third_?” Christine’s mouth gaped ungracefully.

“We do. And if you have that picture,” Bucky gestured at the TV screen, “I’m sure you have others.”

It took a moment for Christine to recover her composure, but finally she nodded. “We do. I was going to ask you about this, too.”

The next image showed Daisy running into Steve and Bucky’s arms; a third flashed up where Bucky was kissing her while Steve held them both.

“Am I correct,” Christine’s voice was notably uneven, “that the girl in these pictures is the new Avenger known to the public only as Quake?”

Bucky hesitated, glanced towards where Daisy and Steve were standing together. “Yes. She is.”

“And her name?” Christine pressed, eager for a scoop.

They’d talked about this. It was inevitable that her name would come out eventually; she’d hoped to keep it private as long as possible, but knew it couldn’t be forever. So when Bucky said “Why don’t you come up here and tell them yourself, doll?” she took a deep breath, squeezed on Steve’s hand briefly and walked towards the chairs.

Steve was right behind her.

Christine seemed to freeze for a moment, but before she could react Steve had seated himself on the small couch beside Bucky, and Daisy, left with nowhere else to sit, shrugged and perched herself on Bucky’s knee.

“Uhhh, yes, Quake!” Christine exclaimed. “It’s lovely to meet you. So, are you willing to share your real identity?”

“Daisy Johnson,” she replied evenly.

“Soon to be Daisy Barnes-Rogers Johnson,” Steve said, “as soon as Thor’s cleared it for us to get married on Asgard. Since their marriage laws are rather more advanced than those of this country.”

“What?” Daisy’s head snapped around, and Bucky elbowed Steve.

“We didn’t ask her yet, punk!”

“Oops,” Steve said guiltily. “Guess we’d better get to that, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if it's over-the-top, but it would definitely be public!


	55. Brock/Beth, 22, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Secret Admirer** _
> 
> _**Obviously in this AU, Brock’s a good guy. He’s been working with the Avengers for a while. He and Steve regularly meet at Beth’s coffee shop. Brock flirts with Beth and she rather shyly flirts back.** _

“On your own today, Steve?” Beth set his coffee down in front of him, wondering why she felt suddenly, unaccountably glum.

“Yeah, Brock’s busy this morning,” Steve gave her a friendly smile. “Sorry your admirer isn’t here on Valentine’s Day,” he added a little teasing remark.

Beth blushed fiery red. “Oh… no, I just… I…” she trailed off. “Got another table to wait!”

Steve chuckled quietly, watching Beth scurry away. Seemed like Rumlow’s campaign of flirting with Beth might be paying off. As he watched the pretty blonde move away, he saw a young delivery guy approaching. He paused in front of Beth and spoke to her before handing her a wrapped box.

The young women whose table she was waiting laughed and urged her to open it; with a bashful smile she did, revealing an expensive box of chocolates.

“Who are they from?” one of the customers asked, laughing.

“I’ve no idea!” Beth confessed, looking at the wrapping and the box for a note.

“A secret admirer!” was generally exclaimed “How romantic!”

Blushing again, Beth fled inside to tuck the chocolates into her bag. When she came out again, though, there was another courier, from a different company, waiting for her.

“Sign here, please,” she was told, before she was handed an envelope, which proved to contain a voucher for an exclusive day spa nearby, again with no note to identify the sender. She stuffed it into her apron pocket and hurried to get back to work.

Steve was just finishing his coffee when the third gift arrived, a delicate silver chain with a beautifully calligraphic _Beth_ hanging from it.

“Someone thinks a lot of you,” Steve commented as Beth took the necklace from the box, smiling giddily, and put it on.

She laughed. “It is most romantic! But I can’t imagine who it could be!” She fingered the silver letters of her name lightly, a faintly wistful smile on her face.

Steve had a pretty fair idea, actually. He smiled at Beth. “Anyone you’d _like_ it to be?”

She blushed and turned away, but not without another slightly wistful glance at the chair Brock usually occupied.

Steve fished his phone out of his pocket and typed a quick text. _If it’s not you sending these things to Beth, you better get your ass down here, because someone’s trying to cut you out._

There was no reply, not that he’d expected one. Amused, he sat back, and next time Beth passed, ordered another coffee. He wouldn’t miss the show about to happen for anything. If it was what he suspected, he’d have ammunition to use against Rumlow for _years_.

Brock hesitated as he saw Steve still sitting at the café. He’d assumed that Steve would have left, had waited until now to make his move. He didn’t particularly want any witnesses in case Beth turned him down.

Goddamn it, Steve had seen him and was grinning and pulling his phone out. Shit, now he was taking a photo! Brock gritted his teeth.

 _Now or never, Rumlow,_ he told himself sternly, _and you better fucking get on with it because otherwise Romanoff will be here rolling her eyes and telling you that you’re far too incompetent to be allowed to manage your own life. And she’ll scare Beth off_...

He gritted his teeth and marched forward, clutching the large bunch of red roses so tightly the thorns ripped through the wrapping and cut into his palm, not that he noticed.

Beth sighed and turned from her last table. Her shift was just ending; she’d done pretty well from tips this morning, not to mention the gifts from her secret admirer. Her fingers slipped up to touch the cool metal at her throat and she smiled to herself.

“Beth,” a gruff voice said, and she looked up to see - a huge bunch of deep crimson roses.

“Oh,” she gasped. “For me?” And then she looked past the flowers and saw him, the dark eyes in that ruggedly handsome face, a slightly nervous smile on his lips. “It’s _you_ ,” she said in awed delight, “ _you’re_ the one who’s been sending me these lovely things!”

A faint ruddy colour touched his cheekbones. “I… overheard you the other day, saying to Darcy that you’d never had anything good happen to you on Valentine’s Day. I was hopin’ that you’d let me change that.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes soft with delight. “Oh, _Brock_ ,” was all she said, but her tone told him everything he needed to know.


	56. SpiderQuake, 1, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roses

“I am really getting sick of you!” Daisy flung up her hands in irritation, and finally, _finally_ , caught Green Goblin squarely in the chest. He went flying, crashing headlong into the side of a building and going instantly still.

“Nice job, partner,” Mack said approvingly, heading over to restrain the unconscious villain.

Daisy smiled, satisfied. A slight cough just above her made her start and look up.

Spider-Man hung upside-down from the building behind her. He was holding out a bunch of long-stemmed red roses.

“You're amazing and badass and I think I'm in love,” he said. “Please, would you be my Valentine?”


	57. Daisy/Tony, 18, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Movie night with a friend turns unexpectedly romantic_ ** **.**

“I don't think much of your theatre room,” Tony griped. “You should have come to the Tower again, I have a much bigger screen and proper viewing chairs, and the world's best system, even U to bring us popcorn… _proper_ popcorn, not this microwave crap…”

“Shut up, Tony,” Daisy settled herself comfortably on the couch and put her sock-clad feet in his lap. “This movie is _old_. It wouldn’t look good on a big screen, and the song sounds way better from my old tinny speakers.”

“Song? What song? This better not be a musical.”

She laughed at him. “Of all people I can’t believe _you_ have never seen _Electric Dreams_. Now shush and turn off the lamp.”

Tony sighed grumpily and reached for the switch. “Not even voice-controlled,” he muttered under his breath, and got Daisy’s toes poked into his stomach for good measure.

They were about ten minutes into the movie when she heard him let out a soft little chuckle. Glancing over at him, she smiled to see his gaze fixed intently on the screen.

It was a few minutes after that when he absently started to massage her feet. And oh boy, he was really, really good at it, strong fingers pushing firmly at sensitive spots. Daisy had to bite on her tongue to suppress a moan - and she just gave up when he pulled her socks off for better access and carried on.

Smiling and laughing as the movie credits rolled, Tony glanced across at Daisy. She was relaxed back on the couch, her eyes almost closed, lips parted. She let out a quite shameless moan as his thumb circled the ball of her foot, and he licked suddenly dry lips. Wondered what she’d do if he kissed her.


	58. Bucky/Bobbi, 16, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Cuddling gets handsy**
> 
> _Taking a slight liberty with this one because I seriously can’t imagine Bucky being cuddly with someone he wasn’t already very intimate with. So this one has been slightly altered to “ **Sparring** gets handsy”!_

“You’re over-guarding on your left,” a low voice observed, and Bobbi jumped, cursing under her breath. She hadn’t heard him enter the gym. But then, nobody heard the Winter Soldier unless he wanted them to.

Stepping back from the punching bag, lowering her fists, she blew a strand of sweaty hair out of her eyes.

“Took an injury a few months back,” she gestured with her boxing glove at the puckered scar on her chest. “Guess I’m not quite as recovered as I thought.”

He studied her from wintry blue eyes from a moment before nodding. "That happens. Especially if you don't have the incentive to force yourself past it." His right hand lifted towards his left shoulder for a brief moment that made her heart ache. She could only imagine what 'incentives' Hydra had used to force Bucky to compliance.

"Would you care to spar with me?" she asked impulsively. "Show me where I'm going wrong."

Bucky hesitated briefly before nodding. "Tap out quickly if you feel I'm exerting too much pressure," he instructed quietly. "I'm still learning to pull punches."

Again she ached for him, but only nodded, forcing a quick smile. "Such arrogance, Mr Barnes," she gave him a teasing little smile, stripping off her gloves and tugging her hand bindings loose. "It might be _you_ who needs to tap out."

She hadn't really expected a smile, but she got one, a quick flash of white teeth as he stepped onto the mat and made a beckoning motion. "Oh, is that how it is, Agent Morse?"

"That is indeed how it is," she moved forward to face him, inclined her head in a slight bow, though she never took her eyes off him. "Been a while since a girl kicked your ass, Barnes?"

He smirked and lashed out with a foot sweep. Lightning-quick, she sprang over it and punched him in the short ribs. "Because I heard it was just last week that Romanoff put you down."

Bucky snorted, but he fell back and eyed her with a little more respect. "Natalia got me one fall out of five. Bet she missed out _that_ little detail."

Bobbi grinned. "It's like fishing stories. You always exaggerate the size of your catch."

"Not if you don't need to exaggerate," Bucky caught her hand as she just slightly over-extended on the next punch, wrenched around and flipped her. She'd telegraphed the move deliberately, though, and a moment later she had him flat on his back, sitting astride him. She knew well that it wouldn't last because she'd only got hold of his right wrist, but even that small a victory made her smile.

To her surprise, though, Bucky didn't immediately shove her off, though his left arm whined and whirred, fingers clenching slowly. His eyes glinted, a smirk curving his lips very slightly. "See? No exaggeration required."

Suddenly, she realised that he was aroused, that the hardness pressing against the curve of her ass was in fact a _very_ impressive erection, through the thin fabric of his shorts. She blinked with shock, and an instant later Bucky had flipped them over, bare chest holding her down effortlessly, his lips a mere inch or so from hers.

He looked almost too gorgeous to be real. Bobbi licked her lips and slid her hands slowly up his sides. "From my experience, it's not what you've got, it's what you do with it," she said, annoyed by the fact that her voice was coming out a little breathy.

"Oh, sugar," his hips rocked gently. "I assure you, I know what to do with it."

The very enthusiastic devil on Bobbi's shoulder socked her angel firmly over the head, and she gave up and grabbed a handful of Bucky's hair in her hand, dragging his mouth down to hers.


	59. Fitz/Natasha, 24, for miss-moonstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine's Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_

"One of your scientist looks like someone stole his puppy, Coulson," Natasha mixed a cocktail and set the glass in front of Phil. Phil glanced back over his shoulder and grimaced.

"Fitz. I'm afraid he was supposed to have a date tonight - being Valentine's Day and all - but the young lady in question decided that her preference lay elsewhere."

"Silly bitch," Daisy muttered angrily on Phil's other side. "Fitz is one hell of a catch. He's as brilliant as Stark, in his own way."

"True," Phil said in response to Natasha's questioning, cynical glance.

"Hmmm. And a cutie, as well." Natasha turned back to the bar, hummed briefly and selected another bottle and a couple of glasses.

"Do you think she'll _actually_ eat him alive?" Daisy murmured to Phil as they watched Natasha taking the dangerous-looking red cocktails over to Fitz and seating herself beside him on the couch.

"If she does, at least we can take comfort in the knowledge that he'll have died a happy man," Phil grinned in response as Fitz turned beet-red in response to something the Russian assassin said to him.


	60. Darcy/Rumlow, free choice, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Oh boy do I love this pairing, though I've written very little of it. OK. Let's go with...22.**
> 
> **_Secret admirer/secret crush_ **

"You spend a lot of time in my damn lab for a field agent, Rumlow," Tony grumped.

"If I don't keep you on track, you'll never get my guns made," Brock replied firmly, hoping Tony wouldn't notice he only came by at certain times.

Like when a certain lab manager was in the labs Tony and Bruce shared, usually there to shout at one or the other of them about the Proper Care and Feeding of Scientists. She was there right now, wagging her finger in Bruce’s face and talking sternly about the amount of hours of sleep he’d faithfully promised her he’d get.

The finger-wagging was making her ass waggle as well. Rumlow quietly lost his mind staring, and, God damn him, Stark noticed.

“Eyes _off_ the nubile young intern, if you please, Crossbones,” Tony said loudly.

Across the lab, Darcy whirled around. “For the last time, Iron Skull, I am not a fucking intern any more!” Her brain caught up with the rest of what Tony had said just as she recognised Rumlow’s back disappearing out the door. “Wait - what? _He_ was staring at my ass?”

“He only likes people to _think_ he’s made of stone,” Bruce murmured quietly. “But I’ve thought for a while that Mr. Tough Guy might have a soft spot for you, Darce.”

She was so flustered by the idea she completely forgot what she was doing there and ended up promising to make them both cookies before wandering off in a daze.

Rumlow. _Crossbones._ Interested in _her_? Impossible, surely.

“Jarvis,” she said in the elevator, “Where is Commander Rumlow, please?”

“He just dived into the swimming pool on level B2, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis informed her. “He is alone there,” the AI added.

Darcy’s brain short-circuited again at the mere thought of Rumlow swimming. Swimming trunks. That bare chest, all those lovely muscles… “Level B2, please.”

The elevator doors slid open and she stepped out into the softly muted blue of the pool level. It was, in typical Stark fashion, magnificent. Olympic-sized, equipped with diving boards and the most opulent changing rooms Darcy had ever seen.

She saw none of it, though, only the man cutting his way through the water in long, smooth strokes, powerful arms and legs churning as he swam.

“ _Hurgh_ but that’s hot,” Darcy said without even thinking about it, and he must have heard her somehow, because he stopped at the end of the lap and rested his elbows on the edge of the pool, looking up at her.

“Sorry,” Rumlow said.

“What for?” Darcy said blankly, gazing at him in fascination. At the water droplets sliding over those thickly-muscled, olive-tan shoulders. Good God, but he was lickable.

“Staring at your ass? Shitty of me and I apologise.”

“That’s okay, I’ve been using you as eye candy for _months_ ,” Darcy said candidly. “If you got even a tiny fraction of the appreciation out of my ass that I’ve been getting from your ass, thighs, biceps, chest, shoulders, face… well, you’re welcome.”

He looked surprised, and then laughed. Put both hands on the edge of the pool and pushed himself up slowly upwards, making _spectacular_ things happen to his arms and shoulders and Darcy let out a strangled shriek of lust. Her eyes slid helplessly downwards over rippling abs, to…

… Oh God.

Why had she for one moment thought that he’d have left his underwear on?


	61. Steve/Bucky/Jemma, 23, for thestarfishdancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Date Gone Wrong - rained out picnic, bank robbery, a mugging…** _

She couldn't quite believe that she was out on a date with _both_ of them. Both of _her_ soulmates. Captain America and the Winter Soldier, walking one on either side of her, moderating their long strides for her shorter steps, each of her hands tucked into the crook of a muscular arm. Jemma kept looking up at them incredulously, from one impossibly handsome face to the other. It was probably a good thing they had hold of her hands or she'd have fallen innumerable times; she'd tripped over more cracks in the pavement on the short walk from where they'd left the car than she cared to recall.

"Steady, sweetheart!" Steve steadied her as she tripped yet again. "Jemma, you need to look where you're going!"

She blushed. "Why waste my eyes on pavement when there's such a visual feast here in you two?" she joked lightly, making Bucky laugh and Steve's ears turn pink.

"Then it's probably a good thing we're here at the restaurant," Bucky teased back, "but you'll have to watch what you're eating, or you'll end up with it all down you. Though that sounds tempting, we could eat it off..."

"Buck!" Steve reproached, turning even pinker. Then he grinned suddenly. "Not that it doesn't sound like a great idea, but let's save that for the next meal we have at home, hey?"

That made Jemma flush, just thinking about it, but they finally reached the restaurant. She decided she’d visit the ladies’ room first, and left Steve and Bucky at the bar to order drinks.

In the bathroom, she used a stall, washed her hands and fished in her purse for a lipstick, planning to just refresh. Bucky had shared the back seat with her on the way there and kissed off every scrap she’d had on.

The bathroom door opened and closed; she glanced up into the mirror, met the eyes of a tall - _man_?! She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound died in her throat as she saw the barrel of a gun lifted to point at the back of her head.

“I understand you’re a smart woman, Dr. Simmons,” the man said quietly. “So no silly moves. Let’s go, now.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “Where are we going?” she asked as she closed her purse - damn Bucky for telling her she didn’t need a gun, anyway - and put the strap back over her shoulder.

“Just somewhere you’ll be quite safe while we negotiate for your release. Seems you’re quite valuable these days, doc.”

They turned right towards the back door of the restaurant; Jemma couldn’t quite help a longing glance over her shoulder back towards the bar.

Where she met Bucky’s eyes in the mirrored wall behind the rows of bottles.

“Move it, doc,” the gun barrel nudged her spine and she moved, quickly, towards the back door. Better to take whatever the hell was about to happen _outside_.

Jemma stepped out into a dark alley and promptly changed her mind; there was a black van there waiting, the side door open, two big guys with guns waiting. They grinned when they saw her and started forward.

A dull _thump_ behind Jemma warned her that things were about to kick off; she covered her head and threw herself behind a dumpster to her left.

A series of crashes and one muffled scream later and Steve was bending over her. “Sweetheart, you all right?” he asked anxiously.

“Fine, perfectly fine!” She stood up. “Oh, _bollocks_!” as her pretty - and very expensive - dress snagged on a piece of metal and tore hideously.

Steve’s mouth twitched. “I won’t say language, because I think you’ve earned at least one dramatic curse. Considering you were just nearly kidnapped by Hydra.”

“Again!”

Steve’s arm, around her securely by now, stiffened. “What do you mean, _again_?”

“My dress is ruined!” Jemma made the immediate decision to deflect that particular line of questioning.

“Damn it,” Bucky, seeing the torn fabric fluttering around her legs, turned to deliver a final kick to the head of the guy who’d accosted her inside. “That’s for ruining our date, asshole,” he snarled.

“I think you already expressed your displeasure, Buck,” Steve said with a quiet chuckle.

“Actually I was very restrained, they’re all still alive. Coulson’s on the way to pick them up.” Bucky came forward, reaching to put his hands on Jemma’s shoulders. “Are you all right, doll? None of them touched you?”

“Not at all,” she reassured him. “I managed to rip the damn dress all by my clumsy self.”

“We’ll have to head home,” Steve said regretfully.

“The hell we will,” Jemma said indignantly. “Nobody will see the rip under the table anyway. I want my dinner!”

They both gave her incredulous looks as she stormed over to the door and yanked it open. “Damned if I’m going to let Hydra ruin our Valentine’s dinner,” she said, looking back at them. “So are you coming, or not?”

  



	62. Jemma/Rumlow/Rollins, 14, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Wingman (bonus points if this turns into a threesome)_ **
> 
>  
> 
> _An AU where Rumlow and Rollins are with Coulson’s SHIELD. (I like this AU. I use it a lot for drabbles. But you can assume they’ve had to go through a major redemption arc first :P)_

“Hold veeery still now,” Jemma swabbed the long gash in Rollins’ arm carefully. “Now, are you going to be silly and use this, or am I going to have to put in proper stitches? If you promise to rest it for a few days, I can just use butterfly stitches.”

“Might be better if you just get your needle and thread out, doc,” Rollins glanced up and gave her a shy smile. “I’m not real good at the rest and recuperation thing.”

She sighed, gave him a pat on the shoulder that set his nerves tingling - even wearing latex gloves as she was - and went to get her stitching kit.

“Ask her,” Rumlow mouthed. He was sitting in the next hospital bed along, waiting for his own post-mission check. He’d taken a boot to the chest and breathing wasn’t fun. Hopefully nothing was cracked.

“ _You_ ask her!” Jack mouthed back.

“I’m too old for her,” Brock shook his head. Jack rolled his eyes.

Jemma was returning, hands full, so they both stilled. She was putting the first stitch into Jack’s arm when Brock said;

“Gentle with him, doc. He’s much more tender than he looks.”

Jemma laughed quietly, trying the stitch off and snipping it. “I doubt that, Commander Rumlow. These aren’t the first stitches I’ve put into Agent Rollins’ tough hide. He won’t even let me give him painkilling shots first.”

“Trying to look tough to impress you, doc, but there’s a very tender heart under there.”

“Shut up, Brock,” Jack’s ears had turned red.

Jemma’s cheeks flushed a little pink too, but she kept her eyes sternly on her work. “You never let me give you painkilling shots either, Commander,” she fired back briskly. “Same motive?”

Jack chuckled as Brock looked startled. “You got him there, Dr Simmons,” Jack said. “Right on target.”

“And is Commander Rumlow a tender-hearted man under that tough exterior too?” Jemma kept her head down, biting on her lip a little as she tried to steady her hand to put in another stitch. Her heart was pounding so fast, though, she thought one or both of them must surely hear it. It was a totally bizarre situation, she couldn’t quite believe that each of them was trying to sell her on the other.

“The best,” Jack said firmly, “anyone can tell you that. He takes care of his own.”

“Jack,” Rumlow said warningly.

Jemma tied off the last stitch while she tried to think of what to say to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. She changed her gloves before bandaging Rollins’ arm carefully. Looking up to meet his green eyes, she gave him a smile.

“Now, behave yourself, Jack.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he arched an eyebrow, gave her a cheeky grin which made her blush a little. “Now, I’m gonna go and leave you alone with my broody boss over there, which is what he’s been waitin’ for all along, obviously.”

“Don’t you dare leave before askin’ this girl out,” Rumlow said menacingly.

“You don’t scare me. He’s all bark and no bite,” Jack told Jemma confidingly.

She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. They both stared at her incredulously as she rocked back and forth helplessly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Are you both… seriously… trying to play wingman for _each other_ with me?” she choked out eventually.

They shared a slightly sheepish look before both shrugging. “Yeah,” Rumlow admitted. “Jack’d be better for you. I’m too old and grumpy…”

“You’re an officer, I’m just a dumb grunt!”

Sitting between the two hospital beds, she could reach out a hand and touch them both, and she did, taking one big hand in each of hers. Cheeks flaming red, she still managed to say what she was thinking.

“You could share me. I might be little, but there’s enough of me to go around.”

An incredulous silence fell. When Jemma gathered the courage to look up, she found two handsome faces sporting identical wolfish grins beaming back at her.


	63. BioFrost , 22, for kathryn-claire-oconnor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Secret admirer/secret crush_ **
> 
> _I couldn’t decide which way to jump with this for a while. Oh well. Hope you enjoy what I came up with! An AU in which Loki gets sent down to work for Coulson’s SHIELD - in compensation for killing him!_

Loki was hanging around the lab _again_. He’d made Jemma nervous the first few times he leaned in out of apparently nowhere and made an insanely clever suggestion that was clearly kiddie science for him. After the tenth it just got frustrating, though. She knew he was trying to toe a fine line between not giving humanity too much advancement all at once, and fulfilling his oath to serve Coulson, but still… the cryptic suggestions were beginning to get on her nerves.

Not to mention the way that he looked in a lab coat made her hands all shaky when she was trying to titrate chemicals.

 _Bad Jemma_ , she thought to herself for the hundredth time. _Do not look at the attractive god-alien. Go directly to detention._ A little smile curved her lips at her own whimsy. _We’d be like Dramione._ Her smile grew wider and she had to suppress a little giggle.

It was moments like these when Loki utterly hated himself. The little mortal scientist had intrigued him from the first moment he saw her, more fascinated with her experiments than with him - which had seriously dented his ego, he could admit to himself now. And as he grew to know her, to know the boundless depths of her curiosity, the brilliance she had achieved in the few short years of her life. On Asgard she would have yet a dozen years to study in the schoolroom, but here on Midgard her inventions were already changing lives.

Jemma smiled to herself, humming under her breath, and Loki groaned under his. He was supposed to be here helping, not thinking of ways to seduce a mere mortal woman into his bed!

“Could I have a word, Mr Laufeyson?” a cool voice said behind him, and Loki turned to see Phil Coulson there.

“I am at your service, Director,” he said evenly.

Coulson gave him a wry look, but said nothing, only gestured for Loki to precede him out of the lab. They didn’t go all the way to Coulson’s office, though, just stopped in the (fortunately deserted) corridor.

“Agent Simmons is a young woman under my protection,” Coulson began.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “That means something rather different on Asgard, you know.”

“I… what?” Coulson obviously thought that over, flushed and shook his head. “I see. Well here, it means, I won’t have you trifling with her!”

“I assure you, my interest in Agent Simmons is not trifling,” Loki said with a charming smile. “If that will be all, Director?” Giving Coulson a polite smile, he stepped back into the lab.

“God damn double-talking trickster,” Coulson muttered under his breath, before smirking slightly. “Well, if it gets out of hand, I’ll just call Mr Banner in. He’s rather fond of Simmons.”

Loki closed the lab door behind him, and looked around - to see Jemma staring at him, mouth and eyes very wide open.

“What?” he said instinctively.

She looked at the lab window next to him.

Which was open.

And he’d been standing right next to it as he spoke to Coulson…

“Shit of a _bilgesnipe_!”  



	64. Skye/Loki, 17, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Flirting up a storm_
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> **In which Loki comes up against SHIELD and is rather surprised to see Coulson still alive**  
>  _

“You again,” Phil groaned as Loki gave him a startled look. “I thought you died!”

“It seems I am not the only one with a talent at coming back from Hel’s Gates,” Loki replied, a green glow building around his hands, “though I wonder if you will be so fortunate a second time, Son of Coul.”

“Get down, DC!” a feminine voice shouted, and Loki, much to his astonishment, was suddenly flying through the air. He crashed to the ground with a thump and immediately leaped back up again.

“What have we here?” he said with great curiosity, seeing the female human dressed all in black standing in the Son of Coul’s defence. She was small and slight, wavy dark brown hair to her shoulders framing a sweet face that was nevertheless set in lines of pure determination. “A Midgardian war-maid. Lady Sif will be intrigued to hear of such.”

“Yeah, we already met,” Daisy said coolly, preparing to quake Loki again. He was no longer looking as though he was preparing to attack, though, the green glow around his fingers dissipating. He dusted off his long robes, eyeing her with interest, a smile touching his patrician lips and…

_...oh no, he’s hot. Phil, you didn’t tell me he was hot…_

“I am Loki Laufeyson, also called Friggason and Odinson, depending on the mood of my adoptive parents at any given time. Prince of Jotunheim by birth and Asgard by adoption.Might I have the honour of your name, War-Maiden of Midgard?”

“Daisy Johnson… um… Inhuman. Agent of SHIELD.” She returned his smile - it really was a very nice smile.

Loki gave her an extravagant bow, holding out his hand. “I am delighted to meet you.”

Daisy gave the extended, upturned hand a mistrustful look.

“I mean you no harm. My oath on it.”

Somehow, she trusted him, reached out her own hand hesitantly, because it really didn’t look quite like he was offering to shake.

He wasn’t. Loki’s long, cool fingers curled under hers, the tips of his fingers pressing gently against the pulse point on the inside of her wrist as he lifted her hand, bowing down again, his green eyes locked with hers. Cool breath ghosted over her fingers just before his lips touched them in a slow, lingering kiss.

“Ahem,” Phil said about two minutes later, when neither Loki nor Daisy had moved, just staring at each other in fascination, “I hate to break up the moment, but are you planning on trying to kill me again?”

“Not just now,” Loki said absently, his fingertips still pressed against Daisy’s racing pulse.

“Not at all,” Daisy said firmly.

“As you wish.”


	65. Skye/Loki, 21, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Homemade date ‘cos we’re broke_
> 
> _(In the same AU as the previous drabble)_

 

“This is pathetic,” Daisy pushed her hair back behind her ears distractedly, looked around her. “He’s a fucking _prince_ , for chrissakes!”

“Daisy…” Jemma said quietly. “You know as well as I do that we’re broke.”

Daisy sighed and turned to hug her friend. “I know.”

Without major government backing, almost all SHIELD agents were basically in it for the love of the job. Nobody was getting more than base wages, and quite a lot of the most loyal were basically taking room and board.

Which included Jemma, Daisy and almost all of Coulson’s ‘inner circle’ of loyal agents.

Normally, it wouldn’t occur to Daisy to care. But tonight - tonight Loki was spending the evening with her, it was Valentine’s Day, and she had literally no money to make things nice.

Jemma and Fitz had both pooled their meagre savings and loaned it to her, and she’d bought a single decent bottle of wine, before realising that Loki wouldn’t even get mildly buzzed on the alcohol.

So now she was standing looking at the cheap scented candles she’d found at the dollar store, the simple dinner Jemma had helped her make - because Jemma was a much, much better cook than she was - and thinking dismally how pathetic it looked.

“Daisy,” Loki’s voice made her jump, and Jemma gave her a last comforting squeeze on the hand before scurrying out.

“Loki,” she turned around, biting on her lip a little nervously. “Hi.”

He took in the room at a glance, the pure effort she’d obviously put in to make it look as nice as she could, and stepped forward, opening his arms to her. “Daisy, this is magnificent!”

“It is?” she looked up at him, her huge brown eyes begging for his approval.

“It is magnificent because _you_ are here,” he told her sincerely. “A hovel, to me, is more appealing than any palace if it is graced by your presence.”

“Oh,” she melted against him, feeling the implacable strength of his arms close around her. “Damn, you’re really good with words.”

“I speak nothing but truth to you, Daisy. I promised you that on the first day we met and nothing has changed since.” His long, cool fingers tilted her chin up and he bent to kiss her, lingering and gentle. “Now. I smell something delicious. What treats have you procured for us to share?”


	66. Jemma/Logan, free choice, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_I’m going to go with 7, because I don’t think I’ve written that one yet… or not nearly as much as some of the others, anyway!_ **
> 
> **_Sharing a plate/box of chocolates/popcorn/drink (I went with something slightly different… you’ll see)_ **
> 
> _I dunno precisely what AU this fits in, but anyway… Warren Worthington throws a Valentine’s party at his fancy mansion and the SHIELD crew are invited._

She’d never imagined there were so many mutants in the _world_. It was all a little overwhelming, the noise and the crowd, and Jemma found herself retreating, seeking a quiet corner.

She found it in the end on a balcony outside; in February everyone else was keeping to the warmer interior of the mansion. She was wearing a sleeved woollen dress though, had found it unbearably warm inside, and took deep grateful breaths of cool air now.

“You’ll freeze if ya stay out here too long, girlie,” a gruff voice said behind her, and she jumped with a small squeak of fright, hand going to her throat as she whirled around.

Oh. _Him_.

While she hadn’t exactly been formally introduced to the mutant known as Wolverine, she knew who he was. Ororo had pointed him out with a laughing remark that his bark was a lot worse than his bite.

“I was too hot inside,” she said with a nervous little laugh. “It's Logan, isn't it? Do you mind if I call you that? I'm Jemma, Jemma Simmons, with SHIELD, but I’m sure you know that…”

She was babbling, clearly nervous, and Logan felt a sudden inexplicable urge to put her at ease.

“It’s good to meet you, Jemma, and of course you can call me Logan.”

She smiled up at him before stepping forward to the balcony railing and taking a deep breath of cold night air. Too late, he saw that she was standing almost right next to the ashtray where his cigar smouldered, had just taken in a lungful of cigar smoke.

“Oh, sorry…”

“Oh, _delicious_ ,” she said at the same moment, looking down and seeing the cigar. “What a guilty pleasure. My grandfather used to smoke cigars; I always loved the smell. May I?” She lifted it in her slender fingers; befuddled, Logan nodded. Watched her put it to her lips and take a puff, her eyelids drifting down with pleasure, long lashes feathering on her pale cheeks.

_Oh, hell, she’s exquisite._

“Mm,” Jemma opened her eyes and offered the cigar back to Logan, who was wearing the oddest expression. Rather as though someone had smacked him upside the head with a brick. “Thank you.”


	67. Steve/Skye, 24, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did your date seriously stand you up on Valentine’s Day fuck that noise will you be MY Valentine?_
> 
> _I flatly refuse to Sharon-bash - or any of the MCU ladies-bash, frankly - so the twit who stood Steve up here shall remain anonymous :D_
> 
> _With a bit of background WidowFalcon because I find those two delightful._

“Are you seriously telling me that someone stood _Captain America_ up for a date?” Daisy said incredulously, staring across the room at where Steve slumped listlessly on a couch. She didn’t even think Steve Rogers knew _how_ to slump.

“Yup.” Natasha watched the emotions play out over Daisy’s expressive face.

“Fuck that noise. Nobody treats our Cap like that,” Daisy said angrily and stormed off towards Steve.

Natasha turned with a grin to give Sam a discreet high-five.

“How much did you have to bribe that girl with to stand Cap up?” Sam asked in an undertone.

Natasha gave him an incredulous look. “Bribery? Who uses bribery when threats are so much more effective?”

“You’re _terrible_ , Natasha,” Sam shook his head in grudging admiration. She rolled her eyes and smirked.

“Come on, those two have been tiptoeing around each other for months. But Steve doesn’t think he’s good enough for Daisy and she was never going to make the first move, not with her fear of being rejected. Not unless I made her mad enough to do something about it.”

“I’m very glad you use your powers for good these days, you know,” Sam said with a grin back at her, and she smiled and slipped her hand into his.

“I’m not having this,” Daisy said without preamble, stamping up and standing in front of Steve, hands on her hips.

“What?” he blinked up at her.

“You moping about because some girl who was _utterly_ not worthy of you was stupid enough to stand you up, on Valentine’s Day no less. Stupid bitch.”

“Language,” Steve said automatically, and Daisy gave him a glare.

“Stupid. _Bitch_ ,” she enunciated slowly and clearly. “I stand firmly behind my opinion of _any_ girl who would turn down a date with you.”

That elicited a small smile from Steve. “Thanks for the outrage on my behalf, Daisy, that’s sweet of you.”

She spluttered incoherently for a moment before reaching down and grabbing his hand. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up! We’re going out. Stuff this ‘being single and miserable on Valentine’s Day’ nonsense, I haven’t had a good Valentine’s Day in… ever, actually, and my guess is you haven’t either. So we’re going to go out together and have a _damn good time_.”

Steve smiled at her fierce determination. “That sounds really nice. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind being stuck with me..?”

She looked up at him, heart in her eyes, though he was too blind to see it... yet. “Steven Grant Rogers, being _stuck with you_ sounds like bliss.”


	68. DaisyBones, 18, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Movie night with a friend turns romantic_   
>  _Another one of those AUs in which Rumlow works for Coulson’s SHIELD commanding the STRIKE teams :D_

“Wotcha watchin’?” Daisy ambled in and paused behind the couch where Rumlow was sprawled. He looked up and grinned at her.

“Haven’t decided, yet. I was just scrolling through Netflix. Wanna join me?”

“Nothing better to do.” She shrugged, scrambled over the back of the couch and plopped herself down on his legs. He grunted and shifted around to make room for her, offered his bowl of popcorn. She helped herself, crunching, sighed as she saw what he was looking through.

“Horror movies? Seriously? It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And here are you and I, both dateless and watching Netflix,” he jibed back. “I don’t want to have to give you my handkerchief if you start crying at some sappy romcom.”

She threw a handful of popcorn at him and snatched the remote while he cursed and picked it off. “Not all movies girls like are sappy romcoms, you chauvinistic jerk!”

Rumlow sighed and dropped the last piece of stray popcorn into the wastebin by the couch. Well, _he_ thought it was the last piece. Daisy restrained a giggle as she glanced at him and saw the piece stuck in his black hair.

“Oh _hell_ no,” he groaned as she selected _The Notebook_. “Gimme that!” he made a grab for the remote. She held it out of his reach, giggling.

“Nope! Ladies’ choice!”

“The hell it is, I was here first!” He lunged in earnest, diving over her, pinning her down on the couch, knocking the remote onto the floor. The piece of popcorn into his hair bounced after it.

Neither of them noticed. Daisy’s chest heaved with quick, sharp breaths, her pupils dilated with desire. Brock stared at her mouth, at the way her tongue darted out nervously to lick over her lower lip. Slowly, his eyes moved up to meet hers, and just as slowly, he lowered his head until their lips met in the first, tentative kiss.


	69. Jemma/Rumlow, free choice, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_You didn’t specify, so I’ve picked 4, Love Letters… and this one’s going to be a little different to all the others :D_ **
> 
> **_Fits into the[You Need To Trust Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3174876/chapters/6896176) ‘verse. Rumlow has been sent on a (short-term) undercover mission where he isn’t able to contact Jemma directly. Unfortunately, it happens to run on over Valentine’s Day. She does her best to put on a brave face about it._ **

“Agent Simmons,” Coulson’s face was a peculiar mixture of exasperation and resignation, “could I see you in my office a moment, please?”

“Of course, Director!” she saved her work and moved away from the computer, following him to his office. He closed the door behind them and turned to face them.

“I will be reminding Agent Rumlow myself of the purpose for which dead-drops are _supposed_ to be used,” he said dryly, “that being the exchange of sensitive information _pertinent to his mission_. That said, I believe that withholding this from you - particularly today - would very likely cause him to become annoyed, and an annoyed Agent Rumlow is something none of us particularly enjoy.”

Jemma gave him a blank look until he held out an envelope with her name on it. The envelope had been unsealed.

“I’m afraid I read it. Just in case it did actually contain any sensitive information. I think I may need eye bleach.”

“Oh,” she suddenly realised what the letter had to be. Grabbing it from Coulson’s fingers, she glanced at his face, realised that he was just as red as she was rapidly turning. “Sorry. Thanks. Okay. Bye!” Hastily she fled the office.

“I need a drink,” Coulson sighed, turning to his desk and the bottle of whisky in the bottom drawer he was resorting to more and more often these days. “ _Bloody_ soulmates.”

 

 [](http://s1383.photobucket.com/user/Catherine_Bilson/media/Miscllaneous/YNTTM%20love%20letter_zpsan3zscib.jpg.html)


	70. Natasha/Heimdall, 5, for strunmahmah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chocolates or candy hearts (Bonus points if they contain something the other half of your OTP is allergic to (think Tony Stark and the strawberries for Pepper))_
> 
> _Yeah, no bonus points for me here this time, I’m afraid :D. Fits into the[Soulmate ‘verse for these two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/8033799)… somewhere!_

 

“So,” Heimdall said, feeling unaccountably awkward, “Prince Thor told me that today is the Feast of Saint Valentine.”

Natasha’s lips did not twitch only because she concentrated hard to keep them still. “That’s correct.”

“In my observations of Midgardians, I have learned that it is tradition to give tokens of esteem on this feast day.”

Her eyes softened as she looked up at him, this millenia-old being, godlike in his power, who was somehow the other half of her soul. “Sometimes, yes.”

“Accordingly, I have brought you a token.” He extended a polished metal box. “Of my esteem,” he added. Just in case she misinterpreted, of course.

Natasha took the box with a smile. “Thank you, Heimdall.” She beckoned with a slim finger and he bent with a slightly confused expression. Reaching up as he neared her level, she pressed a kiss against his cheek. “What is it?” she opened the box and frowned in puzzlement at the small, glossy blue spheres nestled in individual paper cases within.

“Oh. In your tongue, you would call it ‘candy’, I suppose. From Asgard.”

Natasha smiled thoughtfully, touching a fingertip to the glossy blue surface of one sphere. “I presume it’s safe for humans to eat?”

Heimdall’s mouth opened with horror. “Odin’s eye - I never thought of that!”

She laughed… and licked her fingertip before he could stop her. Green eyes opened wide. “Ooooh. That’s _delicious_ ,” she purred, took the whole sphere from the box and popped it into her mouth.

“Om nom nom,” Natasha mumbled around the candy, heading for the couch with the box. It was wonderful, the best thing she had ever tasted, sort of like high quality salted caramel truffles with a chaser of really expensive vodka, an explosion of sensation on her taste buds.

But it was too soon gone, dissolving on her tongue and leaving only the memory in a fabulous aftertaste. She groaned and reached for another - only to have Heimdall grab the box from her hands.

“No!” she wailed, grabbing for them. He fended her off easily - well, with arms longer than her legs, it was totally cheating, she thought, doing her best to twist around him and grab the box. Until he just held it high above his head, laughing.

“Mine!” she said crossly. “You can have these any time you want, I can’t!”

“I know. But on Asgard, we have a tradition too, regarding gifts of these particular delicacies, when they are given to a loved one.”

She tilted her head, still scowling up at him. “And what is that?”

“To feed them to you myself… from my own hand.”

“Oh,” a glint entered her green eyes, and she smiled slowly. “I could go for that.”

As her tongue curled around his fingers and she looked up at him from those wickedly gleaming eyes, Heimdall realised that there were clearly Midgardian traditions about Valentine’s Day that he was as yet woefully unaware of.

But he was going to enjoy finding out.

 


	71. Claire/Matt Murdock, free choice, for charlemagnegryffis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I shall pick...1, Roses._

As usual, he came in via the window. Not at all as per usual, he wasn’t bleeding, and he brought the most wonderful scent in with him.

“Matt?” she froze, startled, between the fridge and the couch, the tub of Ben and Jerry’s she’d been planning to indulge in for a Valentine treat clutched in her hand.

“Claire,” awkwardly, he held out his hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

They weren’t the prettiest roses in the world, but she’d never smelt anything so good in her life. Setting the tub of ice cream down on the counter, she took the roses, inhaling deeply.

“Oh _Matt_ , they’re wonderful.”

“Glad you like them,” he ducked his head a little sheepishly. “I wanted to bring them over earlier, but… it’s been a busy night.” He gestured vaguely towards the window.

“Let me find a vase to put them in.” She smiled at him before remembering he wouldn’t see it, stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek where it was exposed beneath his mask. “And then - would you like to share my ice cream?”

“That sounds wonderful,” he agreed, peeling the mask off and settling himself onto the couch with a sigh.

Smiling to herself, Claire found a vase for the roses beneath the sink and arranged them before collecting the ice cream and settling down beside Matt.

“Chunky Monkey?” he asked hopefully, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Of course.” She offered him the first spoonful.


	72. Steve/Darcy & Bucky/Jane, 12, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _ Double Date _
> 
> _ Not part of the Soulmates AU. In this AU, Bucky and Darcy have developed a sort of BroTP relationship, sympathising with each other over having to manage their respective best friends and said best friends’ complete lack of anything resembling a self-preservation instinct. _

“You’ll never believe what Jane did today,” Darcy giggled, perching on the stool beside Bucky at the breakfast bar.

Bucky didn’t smile, though, just shaking his head as she recited her story. “You shouldn’t have let her try that,” he said reprovingly when she finished.

“Well excuse me for falling asleep!” Darcy rolled her eyes at him. “She was fine. Fortunately. DUM-E’s pretty quick with that fire extinguisher.” She didn’t miss the way Bucky’s prosthesis whined and clicked, his fingers clenching and unclenching slowly. “I don’t get why you don’t ask her out already,” she poked Bucky in the ribs abruptly. “Then you’d maybe have a little bit of a say in whether she gets to do dumb shit like that or not. Or at least, a cat’s chance in hell of talking her out of it.”

“Huh,” Bucky grunted, digging into his cereal. The tips of his ears had turned slightly pink, though. 

Darcy laughed at him shamelessly, at least until Bucky turned to glare at her. “You’re a fine one to talk, Lewis.”

“Oh, shurrup,” she muttered, instantly turning away and going red. “He’d say no anyway.”

“I think you've got a lot better chance than I have. I’ve seen Steve covertly checking you out. Jane’s completely oblivious to my existence.”

“She most definitely is not. I was happily objectifying all you guys the other day and listing my favourite body parts of every Avenger, and she disagreed when I said your eyes.”

“She did?” Bucky blinked. “What did she say?”

“She said ‘his eyes are very pretty, but Darcy, his  _ thighs _ ’ and her eyes went all dreamy for a moment,” Darcy said triumphantly.

“Oh,” Bucky’s expression was an odd combination of surprised and smug. “Well. That’s somethin’, anyway.”

They both ate their breakfast for a little while longer, until Darcy suddenly laid down her spoon. “You know what we should do? Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeeeaahhh,” Bucky said warily.

“We’ll meet somewhere. You bring Steve and I’ll bring Jane. Then we swap partners.”

Bucky smiled. “So, like a double date but they don’t know it’s a date?”

“Yup. Then it’s just us who have to be nervous and panicky and they can carry on being quietly oblivious for a while.”

“That sounds like a plan.” They fist-bumped. “So where are we gonna go?”

“That’s a whole other question,” Darcy said with a grin.


	73. Sabertooth/Darcy, free choice, for anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _From the moment I saw this prompt and saw that you didn’t put a number on it, I knew that I was going to have to go with 25._
> 
> _I know it’s a horribly commercial holiday invented to make money for Hallmark and chocolate manufacturers, but… please be my Valentine anyway?_

“It’s Valentine’s Day next week,” Jane said one day, “what are you and Victor doing?”

Darcy stalled out, hands poised above the keyboard. “Oh, God. I really don’t think Victor is the Valentine’s Day type, Janey. If he thinks I want flowery romance he’ll probably cut and run and I won’t see him for a month.”

That made Jane laugh, but she cast Darcy a sympathetic look, and Darcy knew she was right.

“How do I keep him from freaking out?” she muttered under her breath when an email dropped into her inbox not half an hour later, announcing the _First Annual Avengers Facility Valentine’s Day Party!_ “And who the hell would have thought that Maria Hill was a secret romantic?” She shook her head over the cheesy romance-novel cover of a couple making out on a blurry background surrounded by pink heart balloons.

Posters started going up all around the facility the same day, and when Darcy spotted Victor looking at one with a doubtful expression, she knew what she had to do.

“Ugh,” she came up to stand beside him, wrinkled her nose at the poster. “What a load of sappy crap. Valentine’s Day is such a made-up holiday anyway, it’s totally an excuse for candy-manufacturers and Hallmark to do yet another cash grab.”

Victor looked down at her. “It is?” he asked.

“Yeah. Disgusting,” Darcy nodded emphatically.

_There. Hopefully I’ve convinced him that he needn’t panic now…_

Victor watched as Darcy walked away - he really could never resist that back view - before looking back at the poster, his mouth twisting ruefully. He’d been rather looking forward to going to the party with Darcy. See her dressed up special, looking beautiful, so he could take pride in his mate. He sighed and walked away, huge shoulders drooping just a little bit.

Darcy took care to hammer the point home over the next few days, and Victor showed every sign of being nothing but amused by Maria’s hearts-and-flowers approach to the holiday. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Valentine’s Day itself rolled around and she woke to find him still asleep in bed beside her. She’d half-expected him to have pulled his silent vanishing act in the middle of the night.

“Why don’t you finish early, Darce?” Jane said at four that afternoon. “Go get ready for the party.”

“I’m not inflicting that on Victor,” Darcy said firmly, “we’re going to have an evening in watching an action movie he’ll like. No hearts and flowers or romantic stuff at all.”

Jane sighed and shook her head. “Well - have a nice time anyway.”

“I will, because Victor will be there. Thanks for the early mark, darl,” and she leaned down to kiss Jane’s cheek. “You quitting too?”

“I am. Thor promised he’d be here, so I’m going to go and do my hair and put on a dress, for once,” Jane grinned back up at her. “Go on, off with you!”

Chuckling, Darcy headed back up to her apartment. Opening the door, she startled back, astonished.

“Darcy! You’re not supposed to be here yet!” Victor froze in the middle of the room.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” she asked in utter amazement, looking around.

“It was gonna be a surprise.”

The apartment looked - _romantic_. Not so much in the pink-hearts-and-Cupids way, but classical, beautiful. There were red roses in a vase on the table, which had been carefully laid with polished silverware and several red candles, already burning and releasing a lushly sensual fragrance into the air. It combined with the frankly _amazing_ smell coming from the kitchen.

“I know you think Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday to profit Big Business,” Victor muttered a bit sheepishly as Darcy stared up at him in shock. “But - it’s still a day to celebrate love. And I love _you_ , Darcy Lewis. Will you be my Valentine?”

He was more than stunned when she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms, but quite happy to hold her and pet her hair while she cried happy tears against his chest.

And since she was home early, they had an hour to themselves to celebrate Valentine’s Day before dinner was ready, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _That was the LAST ONE, and I am officially DONE with Valentine’s prompts - for this year!_
> 
> _Thank you so much to everyone who sent me prompts, commented, liked and reblogged. I hope there was something there for everyone even if your OTP didn’t feature!_
> 
> _Now **please** don’t be sending me any prompts for a bit, I have an awful lot of writing to get done - though as always I’m delighted to hear from anyone about anything I’ve written!_


	74. Daisy/Pietro, 22, for dwyn5002

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **An Extra Valentine’s Prompt, for dwyn5002, who won third prize in my 900 Followers contest and asked for this one!**
> 
>  
> 
> **In this AU, Daisy joins the Avengers, and of course, Pietro is NOT DEAD. This is a prelude to[this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5974869/chapters/13757161), which will be the starter for the First Prize fic, which I hope to get out tomorrow!**

She could have sworn that the roses weren’t there earlier. But they were there now, magnificent, crimson-red blooms, a couple dozen of them in a beautiful crystal vase on her dresser. The scent drifted to her across the room and she just had to walk over to inhale, touch one petal delicately with her fingertip.

“Wow, they’re nice,” a voice said behind her, and she whirled to see Wanda at the door, smiling at her. “Who sent you those?”

“Sent?” Daisy’s brow wrinkled.

“Well, it is Valentine’s Day. I just assumed they were from an admirer. Aren’t they?”

“Oh. I hadn’t even realised. I suppose - they could be.” The thought made her smile, turn back to admire the roses some more. “They weren’t here earlier. And there’s no note.”

“Oooh, a _seeecret_ admirer,” Wanda’s husky accent made the word sound absolutely filthy somehow, making a blush rise on Daisy’s cheeks.

“It’s not like that.”

“Well, from where I’m standing it looks exactly like that, because as far as I know you don’t have a boyfriend. Or have you been holding out on me in our girly chats?” Wanda gave her an interrogative look.

“No, I haven’t,” Daisy said indignantly. “I wouldn’t! Not when you’ve confided so much in me. I know all about you and Steve and Bucky dancing around each other, for example. Did you ask them on a Valentine’s date yet, for example?”

“Not yet,” Wanda gave her a smugly triumphant look. “That is what I came by to tell you. I have made plans for this evening and I will finally do as you suggested.”

Daisy gave a squeak of delight and hugged her friend. “I told you that you were gonna have to make the first move, that they’re too old-fashioned!”

“And I think you were right.” Wanda returned her attention to the roses. “They are so pretty, Daisy. The scent,” she closed her eyes, breathing them in. “Aaah. So good. Almost lush. You know what you should do? You should put them in your bathwater, scent your body with them so that your secret admirer knows that you appreciate his gift. Since you cannot thank him any other way.”

That made Daisy blush again, but when Wanda had gone, she turned to look meditatively at the roses. She’d just finished her workout, had been going to have a shower, but there was a huge tub in her bathroom she rarely ever used. A nice hot bath would be just the thing to relax her muscles…

 

“You should take particular note of Daisy’s scent today,” Wanda said to Pietro as she passed him in the corridor a little later.

“Her scent?” He reversed course, caught up with her in a blink. “Why? What about her scent? She has a new perfume? Oh God, someone sent her perfume for a Valentine's gift, didn't they? And she is wearing it to show her esteem for them…”

Wanda turned her head, gave him a flat, dangerous look he would have recognised if he wasn't so lost in his own misery. “You are _such_ an idiot,” she said.

“Hey,” Pietro instantly bit back, “at least I'm not the one crushing on Captain Oblivious Virgin and Winter Icy Balls…ouch!”

She'd flung out a hand glowing with red power and put him into the wall. Shaking himself off, he debated racing after her again, but her hands were still glowing. Maybe he'd been teasing her just a little _too_ much about that crush of hers lately, but then she _was_ his baby sister. Dusting himself off, he sighed and headed for the common dining area. Wanda had deserved a _little_ teasing, he thought glumly. She'd started it, telling him about Daisy wearing a perfume gifted to her by another man.

And there was the beautiful object of his affection herself, smiling and talking with Helen Cho as they served themselves at the salad bar. Somehow Pietro found himself heading towards her, gravitating as always in her direction. She looked up at him with her usual bright smile.

“Hey Piet! Don't usually see you here?”

“The dining room?” he said stupidly, thinking, _I am here all the time, I have to eat so much…_

“The salad bar,” she snickered, making his face flame red. “You're usually into the protein and carbs, gotta fuel that super-metabolism, huh?”

“Oh,” he looked desperately at the salad bar, trying to see something among all the rabbit food he could actually claim to like, “well… I do enjoy...roses.”

 _Roses_? He'd meant to say _strawberries_. _You idiot, Pietro!_ But somehow all he could smell was the rich, sensual scent off the blooms he'd slipped into her room with earlier.

Daisy blushed even redder than he, though, looked down at her feet. “Oh, I, um, I got these beautiful roses from an unknown admirer. Wanda suggested I bathe with the petals, to get their scent on me. Hope whoever sent them would notice, since I have no other way to let him know I appreciate the gift.”

He just stood there gaping at her, his brain completely short-circuited by the image of Daisy in a bath of rose petals.

“Hargh,” he managed to get out eventually.

“Anyway. Sorry if the smell bothers you!” Daisy mustered a small smile and moved hastily away. She'd been more than half hoping that Pietro was the one who’d sent her the roses. But surely Wanda would have told her? On the other hand, Daisy knew Wanda was quite traditional in her ideas about relationships, she'd taken an awful lot of convincing that it would be perfectly all right for her to be involved with both Steve and Bucky...

She glanced back over her shoulder to where she'd left Pietro standing by the salad bar - frankly because she just really liked looking at him - but he was gone. Sighing, she turned back to look for Helen again, and almost bumped right into Pietro. She shrieked and dropped her salad bowl, which he caught and put straight back into her hands before she even registered that she'd dropped it. Warm fingers cupping hers, he smiled down at her from those amazingly blue eyes she didn't think she could ever tire of looking into.

“I theenk your ‘secret admirer’ would be very glad to know that you choose such a way to show your appreciation for his gift,” he said, his accent as always making her feel a little weak at the knees, “though the thought of you in a bath of red rose petals will now haunt my dreams for ever, thank you very much for that.”

She laughed at his nonsense, pulling the bowl and her hands from his grasp. Until something struck her.

“I never said they were red.”

“Did you not?” Pietro smiled sheepishly, realising he'd been caught out.

“It _was_ you!”

He ducked his head. Caught her bowl as she dropped it a second time. “You really don't seem to want this salad very much, Daisy. Maybe I could take you out to lunch instead?”

She smiled delightedly up at him. “Yes please!”

**Author's Note:**

> Requests for this fic are now CLOSED. Please do NOT attempt to send me any more. It's going to take me at least a couple of weeks to work through the 50+ that I have in the queue!


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